Risk and Reward
by QueenOfTheDreamers87
Summary: Lord Voldemort successfully destroys Harry Potter in 1981 after a thirty-year-old Bellatrix warns him about a bad feeling she's got. To show his gratitude, he kisses his most cloying, devoted slave, not realising just how attracted he's become over the years to Rodolphus Lestrange's wife and his most able servant in the raging war.
1. Chapter 1

_31 October 1981_

 _Malfoy Manor_

"Enter." Voldemort shook like mad as he redid his tie and stared into the mirror on his office wall. When the door opened, he turned to see Bellatrix Lestrange standing there, wide-eyed and nervous.

"Bella," he murmured quietly. "What do you need? I have very important business tonight."

"Master," she bowed, shutting the door and padding gently into the room. Having just turned thirty, she'd been married for eight years now to Rodolphus Lestrange and had been a servant of the Dark Lord for thirteen years of her life. She was by far his most devoted slave. She was in love with him, too, he knew. He ignored that fact, for the most part, except for when exploiting it would make her feel wanted and special and make her more useful. He was sure to keep her close, and over the course of this war, she had proven herself to be an incredibly vicious soldier. She was remarkably beautiful, though Voldemort had never indulged himself. She was too young, first of all, or at least she'd always seemed too young, what with the twenty-five year age difference. And then there was just how cloying she was, how very much she wanted him on a seemingly molecular level, and Voldemort couldn't abide that. So he didn't. But he did try to make her feel special. So now he walked over to her and kissed her forehead, and he asked her in a voice far gentler than any he used with anyone else,

"What is it, my dear?"

"I had a dream last night, Master," she said, suddenly sounding more confident as she stared up at him with wide brown eyes, "that you went to kill a little baby and the Curse rebounded and destroyed you."

"What a very odd dream," Voldemort said, but he felt a twinge of unease in his mind as he suddenly tasted bile in his mouth. Was something going to happen to him when he went to kill Harry Potter tonight? He cleared his throat and asked seriously, "Have you had this dream only one time?"

"Only the once, Master, but it was clear as day and gave me a terrible headache when I woke. I came straight here. It felt so real. It felt like…" Bellatrix's eyes welled. "It felt like I needed to tell you. Like a warning."

"Like a warning." Voldemort licked his lip and nodded. He suddenly started strategising in his mind. Lily and James Potter would be skilled, but he could Disarm and then Stun them first, kill the baby first, then kill them… would that work? He frowned and asked Bellatrix,

"In the dream, was I fighting?"

"I heard a woman's scream," Bellatrix said. " _Harry._ _No._ "

Voldemort shut his eyes and realised he would need to work out a better plan than the one he had. He stared at Bellatrix and took her face in his hands. He touched his lips gently to hers, seeming to shock her, and she whimpered gently beneath him. Something stirred within him at the way she'd reacted to such a small kiss, such a slight grant of affection, and he huffed a breath as he told her,

"You're a good girl."

"Master, I only want to serve you," she whispered, and he nodded. He brushed his thumbs under her eyes and told her,

"I'll come back tonight. I will not be destroyed."

* * *

" _Expelliarmus! Stupefy!"_

Lily Potter's wand flew from her hand, and Voldemort deftly caught it. She collapsed to the ground before the baby's cot, and Voldemort snapped the witch's wand. James Potter was already dead. He aimed his wand at the infant, who was annoyingly staring at him, and he said quickly,

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

The baby shot back against the cot, and Voldemort curled his lip up. He didn't much care for killing babies, even ones who had been prophesied to destroy him. He aimed his wand at Lily Potter and killed her, too, and then he Vanished the bodies. The house was a mess from the fight Lily and James Potter had put up before dying, but no matter. Voldemort Disapparated at once and landed in the gardens outside Malfoy Manor, and when he approached the giant double doors, he used wandless magic to shove them open.

He stalked quickly through the manor, hearing worried female voices in a library. He decided to stop in there, and when he did, he found Narcissa Malfoy with her little boy, Draco, and Bellatrix, who was pacing like a caged animal.

"My Lord," said Narcissa, Draco squirming on her hip. She bowed her head, and then Bellatrix whirled from the window.

"Master!"  
"Harry Potter is dead," Voldemort said simply. He was wet from rain, not minding that all of a sudden. "Lily and James Potter are dead. Harry Potter is dead. My mission is fulfilled. The war goes on. We will continue fighting. We will win. Wizarding Britain will be mine."

"Master!" Bellatrix looked like she wanted nothing more in all the world than to run into his arms and squeeze him. For some bizarre reason, that didn't sound so awful right this moment. Voldemort held his arms out to her, and Bellatrix squeaked as she approached him. Narcissa looked shocked where she stood holding Draco, and Voldemort wrapped Bellatrix up in his robes. He held her for a moment, breathing in the salty, rose scent from her curls, and he remembered that she was Rodolphus' wife.

Well, what the blazes did _that_ matter, he wondered? She was _his_ servant. His slave. She belonged to him. And she had warned him.

"You warned me," he said, pulling back from her, and she stared up at him and shook her head a little.

"It was only a dream."

"Something in that dream made me change the order of my actions. I have no doubt whatsoever that your dream saved me this night, Bellatrix, and you must be rewarded," Voldemort said. Bellatrix's eyes welled, and she glanced over her shoulder at her sister, who comforted her cooing little white-haired baby with a small toy. Narcissa said wisely,

"Master, I must get Draco to bed, if I may."  
"Go," said Voldemort. "Tell Lucius all was a success."

"Yes, Master." Narcissa bowed her head and walked quickly out of the room.

Bellatrix and her husband fought rather independently as soldiers for Voldemort. Their marriage had been one of necessity; they'd both been Purebloods whose families had asked of them to marry another Pureblood. They were not in love. This Voldemort knew from curious prying with Legilimency every now and then. But they were physical from time to time. This Voldemort had unwittingly discovered, too.

"Bella," he said quietly, once Narcissa had gone, "You may have saved my… my life this night."

It was more complicated than that, though of course she could never understand. He stared down at her. She was very short, he realised. Very small. She had a tiny waist. She had hair that exploded out of her head in wild black curls. She had wide eyes and full lips. Why was she pretty tonight?

He let out a long, hard breath and whispered again,

"You may have saved me tonight, Bella."

"Well, if I did, that would have been the greatest thing I could have ever done in my entire life. Master." Bellatrix stared at him, her eyes searching him, and suddenly he felt very old. At fifty-four, he was grey-haired now, with his hair cropped short, and he wore black-framed glasses nearly all the time. Gone was the handsome, dapper young Tom Riddle. He sniffed a little, remembering how Bellatrix had looked at eighteen or twenty. She'd been too young then. She was thirty now. She wasn't too young now, was she? She was married, but that didn't matter. She worshipped him. Suddenly that felt nice, that idea. He'd tasted destruction in her dream, and he'd tasted victory tonight.

The prophecy would not come to pass.

The prophecy had been destroyed.

She was very pretty.

"You must be rewarded," Voldemort told her again, and he cupped her jaw in his hand and tipped her face up to his. He lowered his mouth until it touched hers, and Bellatrix let out a strange little noise up against his mouth. He used his left hand to adjust his glasses, which were slipping down his nose a little, and he pressed his mouth to Bellatrix's again. He parted his lips and pushed his tongue against Bellatrix's bottom lip, and she gasped. He seized on her shock, and he urged his tongue into her mouth, dragging the tip of his tongue along the roof of her mouth, suckling on her tongue and lips.

She was delicious. She was… why hadn't he kissed her until now? Why had he never, ever done this? In all the years of her wanting him, craving him, worshipping him, why had he never kissed this witch?

"Bellatrix," he whispered, and he yanked himself back before he could do any more damage to himself. He was starting to go hard, and he couldn't abide that. He stared at her, studied her, and he mumbled, "There's your reward."

She looked like she was going to faint, right there in the library, but she just blinked a few times, glassy-eyed and pearly-lipped, and she murmured,

"Master… I am just so glad you're well. And here. I don't know what we would do without you, My Lord. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Bella." He shut his eyes, kept them closed, and when he opened them again, she was gone from the room.

 **Author's Note: I can't bring myself to stay away from Bellamort forever; it's just my OTP. I guess I would just say if you feel that my stories are repetitive, please feel free not to read them. I am going to try working in a different time frame and a totally different alternative to canon to shake things up a little. Thanks for reading and reviewing.**


	2. Chapter 2

_1 November 1981_

 _Malfoy Manor_

"A prophecy was made," said Lord Voldemort to the assembled Death Eaters, "that stated a little baby would be my downfall. But… no. This will not come to pass. You see, my friends, Lily and James Potter are dead! Harry Potter is dead!"

Cheers went up, and Bellatrix tingled from her scalp to her toes where she sat beside Rodolphus. She glanced at him, feeling nothing, and she looked up to her master and felt everything. She stared at him where he stood in his black-rimmed glasses, dragging a palm over his cropped grey hair, and she suddenly remembered the way he'd kissed her the night before. His eyes flicked to her and flared red for a moment. They did that sometimes, when he was angry or fired up about something. Well, she knew, he was fired up now. He returned his gaze to the crowd of Death Eaters and said,

"The war rages ever onward. We must fight until Dumbledore is dead, until the Ministry is in shackles in our hands, until Mudbloods are eradicated from Wizarding society. Who will continue to fight with me?"

"I will, Master!" called Bellatrix at once, and he smirked at her. He kept his eyes on her as the others shouted their agreement. Narcissa was standing in the corner of the room, holding Draco and looking just a little afraid. The war would ramp up now, and her home was the centre of Voldemort's base. She was afraid for her son, Bellatrix knew. But Bellatrix thought Narcissa should be proud that Malfoy Manor had been chosen for key operations. She should be proud to host the Dark Lord. Draco would be fine, and if he wasn't, he would fall in the Dark Lord's service just like the big Death Eaters did.

"Dismissed!" said Voldemort. "Until I call you again. You all have your set tasks; keep at them."

Everyone rose then, and the meeting began to disperse. There was a fuzzy sort of energy in the room, the sort that flared up whenever a group of Magical people got excited. Bellatrix walked toward the door dragged by Rodolphus, who had his hand round his wrist and was talking animatedly to his elder brother Rabastan. Bellatrix glanced over her shoulder at the Dark Lord, who still stood at the head of the table, and realised he was glaring at her. He edged his glasses up his nose and visibly gulped, and suddenly she wanted him so badly she couldn't take it.

"Master," she said softly, but Rodolphus pulled her out of the room. He dragged her down the corridor to a quiet spot and pushed her against the wall, jostling a portrait, who yelped in protest.

"Shut up, you old painting," Rodolphus growled, and he pinned Bellatrix in with his arms. He was tall and thin, much taller than Bellatrix, and he loomed over her. She stared up at him and asked,

"Wh-What are you doing, Dolph?"

"I'm excited," he whispered. He waited for the last few people to leave the meeting room - the last except for Voldemort - and once they'd gone, he drove his face down onto Bellatrix's. She yelped and held his face, pushing it away a little, but he misinterpreted her actions as consent and dug in. She suddenly had an erection grinding against her stomach, hands searching her torso, and when she wrenched her face from his, she made a disgusted sound and cried,

"Not here, Dolph; what are you _doing_?"

"I told you. I'm excited. About what's happened with the Potter boy."

"So you're going to fuck me in the corridor of Malfoy Manor?" Bellatrix shrieked disbelievingly.

"I'd rather prefer if you did not," said a voice, and suddenly Rodolphus flew away from Bellatrix's body. She panted where she stood against the wall, staring at Voldemort, who had approached after leaving the meeting room. Rodolphus looked exceedingly embarrassed and stammered,

"So sorry, My Lord. I was just… It was only that I was… you see, I was…"

"Excited. Yes. I heard. I think the whole manor heard." Voldemort tipped his head, and Bellatrix felt her cheeks go very warm indeed. Voldemort surprised her then by turning his eyes to her and saying, "Bella, I need you in my office."

"You do?" she asked in shock, and then she quickly amended, "I mean to say, I shall come at once, Master."

"Will you?" he narrowed his eyes and then said to Rodolphus, "May I suggest you and your brother go back to Castle Lestrange and finish off a bottle of Firewhisky?"

"Sounds marvelous, Master," Rodolphus nodded. He squeezed at Bellatrix's hand and kissed her cheek, and he whispered, "Sorry. I'll see you at home later."

"Later," Bellatrix agreed, and she watched Rodolphus walk briskly down the corridor. She followed Lord Voldemort to his office, and she murmured softly from beside and behind him,

"I apologise, My Lord; I don't know what got into him."

"Desire got into him, as it gets into many wizards," Voldemort said simply. "He was happy, and he wanted you, and he simply could not be made to wait."

"Why did you interrupt?" Bellatrix asked curiously, and she did genuinely wonder. Why didn't he just keep on going to his office?

"I told you. I needed to meet with you," he said sharply, and Bellatrix nodded. She followed him into his office, and when he shut the door, he said at once,

"There's another baby who fits the description of the prophecy. I did not target him because he is a Pureblood. But I had a dream last night that, now that the Potter boy is gone, this one would be my undoing. I will not reveal the prophecy in its entirety to you. Trust me when I say that this boy and the Potter boy are the only two who neatly fit the description."

"Who is he, Master?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort said simply,

"Neville Longbottom. Frank and Alice's boy. Dumbledore will put them into hiding now. I want this to stay secret. I do not want it known that I have weaknesses, vulnerabilities like this. But I know I can trust you. Can't I, Bella? I can trust you."

"You could trust me with your life, Master," Bellatrix said, feeling her eyes well. He adjusted his glasses and said sharply,

"That's what I'm doing."

"Oh. Yes." She nodded. "Well, I shall kill them, then."

"No." He shut his eyes. "You and I will work together to find them. I know that Dumbledore will hide them now that the Potters are dead. Dumbledore knows the prophecy, you understand. Or at least, he'll know that this boy… that I might come for him. So he'll hide them. You and I will work as a team in secret to hunt the Longbottoms down and eliminate this threat. Together. In secret. Am I understood? You are the only one I feel I can truly trust with this task, Bella. I do not… you see, it is only that the others seem as though for the right price, or…"

He did not have faith in the others' undying loyalty, Bellatrix could tell. She nodded and informed him,

"I would die a hundred thousand deaths, Master. I would endure a million lifetimes of the Cruciatus Curse… before I gave you up. Before I betrayed you."

"I know." Suddenly his eyes seemed a little wet behind the lenses of his glasses, and he was a bit nervous. He nodded again. "I know. You are the only one in that mass in whose loyalty I put absolute confidence. And so I am putting my confidence there now. I need you to assist me, Bella. You will do it."

It was not a question. It was an order. And of course she would obey. She never would have any choice but to obey him. She curtsied deeply, holding out her velvet skirt, and she whispered,

"Master."

When she stood, she was surprised - no, shocked - by the way he swept an arm behind her back and drew her near. She stared up into his eyes, her breath quickening, and then suddenly his lips were very near hers. She could feel his breath on her mouth, and she whispered,

"My Lord?"

"I trust you," he said, almost as though the words shocked him, as though the concept shocked him. Perhaps, she thought, he had not trusted very many people in his life. Perhaps she was one of the first people he'd really trusted, and it surprised him to feel the sensation. To reassure him, she reached up and cupped his jaw, feeling the smoothness of where he'd shaved this morning, and she murmured,

"I would let them rip me limb from limb before I would ever betray you."

"I trust you," he said again, and he touched his mouth to hers. He didn't push his tongue into her mouth like he had the night before. He was… gentle? Soft? It was wholly unexpected, the quiet way he was kissing her now. Even Rodolphus was never like this, never easy or velvet with his kisses like this. Bellatrix shivered and reached up with her other hand. He still cradled her around her back, and his other hand went to her ribcage. He held her like that for a long while, kissing her once, twice, three times and then pulling back as his breath shook a bit.

"Go drink with your husband," he commanded her, but Bellatrix stared right through the lenses of his glasses into his dark eyes and shook her head. She whispered,

"I don't feel much like drinking. Master."

"Bella." He licked his bottom lip, then chewed it, and he finally said in a rather firm voice, "I am not about to become your lover, you do realise."

"Of course not," she whispered, but neither of them moved. He was still holding her back, holding her ribs, and she was cradling his face. He kissed her again, more deeply this time, and he let out a low little groan. He finally wrenched himself away and dragged his wrist over his lips, turning away toward the window and shoving his hands into his robe pockets.

"Go," he barked. "I will summon you when I have need of you. You have your orders. You know your mission. Now go, Madam Lestrange."

 _Madam Lestrange._ Not _Bella_ , like he'd said all morning and the night before. Bellatrix got the hint. She was dizzy where she stood, but she dipped again and whispered,

"Goodbye, My Lord."

 **Author's Note: Thanks so very much for reading and reviewing. I really appreciate it.**


	3. Chapter 3

_2 November 1981_

 _Ilkley, Yorkshire_

"This is the house?" asked Bellatrix, and Voldemort confirmed,

"This is where Frank and Alice Longbottom had their child, Neville, according to Ministry records, and where they're recorded most recently living. I can sense wards. Let me take them down."

He slashed his wand a few times and removed the wards in the air one by one. Protective spells dissolved like smoke at his command; his magic was too powerful for these paltry charms and wards. He glanced over to Bellatrix, who had come dressed today in battle attire. She had on black leggings and black boots, along with a black tunic and lace-up gauntlets. She had her hair half tied back and wore dark lipstick and eyeliner. She looked fierce. She looked ferocious. She _was_ ferocious, he thought. She _was_ fierce.

"Bella," he said quietly, and she stared up at him in the drizzle that was starting to fall. She adjusted her grip on her wand, and Voldemort's throat went dry all of a sudden. Why had his throat gone dry? He tried to lick his lip, but his tongue was dry, too. He wanted to tell her that she looked like a perfect soldier. Why did he want to tell her that?

"Let's go inside," he said instead, and he stepped up to the row house before them. He held his wand carefully as he and Bellatrix approached the front door, and then he aimed his wand at the doorknob and opened it. He pushed the door open and stepped inside the house, and his boots creaked on the wooden floor beneath his soles. He heard Bellatrix shut the front door.

" _Homenum Revelio,_ " Voldemort incanted, but nothing happened. No one was here. He walked quickly up the flight of stairs and into the baby's nursery on the left.

"They've gone," Bellatrix said at once. "All the baby's toys are gone. The drawers in this dresser are empty; they packed up the baby's clothes. Cissy would never have an empty nursery for Draco. And if she left, she'd take everything she could possibly need for him."

She was wandering around, opening drawers and looking in wardrobes. Voldemort examined the cot and mumbled,

"Where'd you get to, Neville?"

"Where would Dumbledore hide them?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort said,

"They used a Fidelius Charm with the Potters. They had a Secret-Keeper. My guess is they'd use another one, a more trustworthy one. We have to figure out who their Secret-Keeper would be."

"The Longbottoms'?" Bellatrix scratched at her curls and shrugged. "They're awfully close with Andromeda. So far as I know. If you can find her, we could interrogate her. She married that Mudblood, Ted Tonks, and they've a daughter who's about eight now."

"They wouldn't use Andromeda," Voldemort protested. "It's too obvious. But her husband, Ted. Ted Tonks. Perhaps him… in any case, we need to find them and question them," Voldemort nodded vigorously. "They're our next step. This home is a dead end, but I rather expected it to be one. We'll monitor it every now and then in case there's a sign they've come back. In the meantime, I'm going to set a trap. A special spell of my own invention. _Notificatas._ If anyone enters the house, I will feel a stabbing pain behind my eyes and know to come here."

"Master, you're brilliant," breathed Bellatrix, and he sniffed a little laugh. They went back out the front of the house and he cast the _Notificas_ spell, and then they Disapparated back to Malfoy Manor. They walked in silence to Voldemort's office, and Bellatrix finally asked,

"Shall I go, Master? Have you any more need of me?"

Any more need? Had he any need of her? It certainly felt like he needed her. Why did it feel like he needed her?

"When is the last time you had your husband inside of you?" Voldemort found himself asking, and Bellatrix looked utterly shocked. Her cheeks went very red, and Voldemort huffed as he aimed his wand at her and barked, " _Legilimens._ "

 _Rodolphus was on top of Bellatrix, who shut her eyes and tried to pretend this wasn't happening. She never liked this, not ever, but it was part of being married, and she'd been married for eight years now. He wasn't large inside of her, but the movement jarred her just the same. She held the sheets for purchase and squeezed her eyes shut. She hated this._

"When was that?" Voldemort snapped, and Bellatrix dragged her fingers over her damp curls as she answered,

"Four nights ago, Master."

"Why?" Voldemort demanded, and Bellatrix seemed mightily confused. Voldemort specified, "Why do you let him take you if you so despise it?"

"I have to," Bellatrix said quietly. "He's my husband."

"You don't have to." Voldemort shook his head madly and said, "I am your Master. If I order the both of you to stop the copulation, then you must."

"Why would you…" A look of realisation came over Bellatrix's face then. She could tell that he did not like the idea of her being physical with Rodolphus. Indeed, the thought of it made Voldemort feel ill. He shut his eyes now and listened to a hard rain begin to fall outside his office window. He thought of himself atop Bellatrix, of himself inside of her. What would that feel like, he wondered? What would she feel like around him, beneath him? She, who had pined after him and clamoured at him for years? What would she feel like?

"Bella?" He opened his eyes and saw her knitting her hands together before her. He tipped his head and pushed the side of his glasses up, and he said,

"Do you suppose your mother could figure out where Andromeda is?"

"She disowned her, Master, but… I think you may be onto something. I suspect that my mother stays in secret contact with Andromeda so that she can get photographs of the little girl, Nymphadora. She probably has an address, at least. I can go to my parents' house and Confound her into telling me what she knows about Andromeda."

"I'd like you to do that," Voldemort nodded, "as soon as you can. Get that information so that we can track down Andromeda. Do not speak of it to Narcissa. She, I know, can give us no help at all when it comes to Andromeda. And while she and Lucius are loyal servants, her first priority is her son Draco. She is not privy to this mission. It is to remain secret."

"Understood, My Lord," Bellatrix nodded eagerly. She stepped closer to him and insisted, "I will do everything I possibly can to serve you properly."

"You have wanted me for a very long time," Voldemort noted suddenly, and Bellatrix's eyes shifted strangely. She seemed nervous, but Voldemort shrugged and said, "Bella, I've known you since you were a Slytherin student. You have craved me all the while. Don't let's either of us pretend that is not true."

"Well, Master," Bellatrix muttered, "it is true. But I've lived with that want through eight years of marriage and the years before. I can continue to live with it and serve you just the same. I'll serve you even better because of it. Please, know that it doesn't affect -"

"I want you." Voldemort nodded crisply, and Bellatrix looked utterly shocked. She stared right at him, her eyes going wider by the second. Voldemort was nonplussed. He said in a nonchalant, easy voice, "I may have whatever I want, and I did not want you when you were a child. As time has passed, I have changed my mind. Now I want you."

"And that's why… that's why you interrupted Rodolphus in the corridor?" Bellatrix whispered. "That's why you looked into my mind, asked when the last time I was with him was?"

"I don't have to answer those or any other questions," Voldemort snapped. "I can order you upstairs to my personal chambers and tell you to take your clothes off, and you'll have to do it, because you are my servant. You belong to me."

"I do," Bellatrix agreed bravely. "But you wouldn't have to order me to do any of those things, Master; I would do them willingly."

Voldemort tingled suddenly from head to foot, and he felt himself start to come alive. Suddenly he wanted to know what she would feel like. He could order her upstairs, and she would go. He could order her to take off her clothes off for him, and she would. Would she have small pink nipples, he wondered? What would she look like with her legs spread?

"Go to your parents' house as soon as you can," he commanded her, "and Confound your mother into giving you whatever information she's got about Andromeda. That is our next step."

Bellatrix looked profoundly disappointed. Voldemort breathed quickly through his nose and whispered,

"Go, Bella. Please."

 _Please_. Why on Earth had he said that? _Please?_ He had begged her, like some sort of child. He felt shame wash over him, and then anger, and he barked harshly,

"Follow the orders of your Master and _go!_ "

"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix bowed deeply and hurried out of the office, and she was gone before he could demand a kiss goodbye.

 **Author's Note: Good gravy, it feels good to be writing these two again. I missed my Bellamort couple! And it's kind of fun to explore a slightly more mature Bellatrix and an older, much more powerful Voldemort. I'd love to know your thoughts. Thanks for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

_4 November 1981_

 _Kensington, London_

"Bellatrix! Oh, darling. Every time I see you, I fret. Every time I _don't_ see you, I fret even more. The stories Narcissa tells me. Oh. Goodness." Druella Black pulled Bellatrix from the entry foyer of the Black family's Kensington townhouse into the sitting room on the left, and Bellatrix plopped down onto a divan. She sighed and said,

"Cissy doesn't know the half of it, I'm afraid."

"Don't tell me that, dear. I'm worried enough as it is," Druella said, waving her hand. "Now. What has made you deign to grant me your presence today?"

"Is Daddy home?" Bellatrix asked casually, and Druella frowned.

"No, darling; he's at work. At Gringotts. You should know."

"Of course." Bellatrix smiled dismissively and quickly whipped out her wand, keeping it hidden in her large sleeve. She thought quickly, _Confundo!_ and watched as her mother vibrated where she sat in the chair opposite her. The Confundus Charm caused Druella's eyes to glaze over a bit. Druella said nothing for a very long moment, until finally Bellatrix asked,

"Where's Andromeda?"

"I really don't know now," Druella said, shaking her head slowly. "She wrote to me last week by owl, sending me a photograph of her daughter, Nymphadora, begging us to accept her husband. But I don't know where she's living now; it could be different."

"You haven't got any idea whatsoever?" Bellatrix snapped.

"The last I'd heard, they'd gone to Ireland," Druella said in a dreamy sort of voice. "To Galway. But for all I know, she's moved since then; that was almost a week ago. And with everything that's happened… with the Potters… I haven't an address."

"Galway, in Ireland," Bellatrix repeated. " _Finite Incantatem._ "

She tucked her wand away as her mother came to, and then Druella said carefully,

"Darling, I've got a monstrous headache. I'm so sorry, but I really am feeling quite unwell all of a sudden."

"Menopause, perhaps," Bellatrix said bluntly, and Druella gave an embarrassed little smile.

"Yes, perhaps. Would you mind terribly if I went to lie down, dear?"  
"Not at all," Bellatrix said. "By all means. Do go lie down. I just came to say hello, and I've done that, so… I'll see you soon, Mum."

"Bye, darling," said Druella.

Back at Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix inquired after the Dark Lord after knocking for five minutes on his office door. Narcissa said he was up in his personal quarters, and that he was never to be bothered when he was up there.

"Trust me, Cissy; he'll want to be bothered with this," Bellatrix growled, and she hurried up the winding staircase by herself. She wandered down the corridor that led to a large double doorway, a suite, and she knocked rather bravely upon it.

"I don't want dinner," called a voice from inside, but Bellatrix called back,

"It's me, Master. Bellatrix."

"Oh." A moment later, the door opened, and he stood there looking weary and haggard. His scruff had grown in a bit, and his glasses were a little crooked on his face. He straightened them and said in a sleepy sort of voice, "Excuse me; I had a terrible headache."

"So did my mother, when I went to see her just now," said Bellatrix matter-of-factly, and a look of realisation crossed Voldemort's tired eyes. He gestured for her to come into his suite, and she followed him into the main sitting room. He was wearing pyjamas, she noticed, and she thought that was very odd. They were black flannel, and he was wearing them right here in front of her.

"What did your mother say?" he asked, and Bellatrix told him honestly,

"She hasn't had a positive identification on Andromeda's location for a week, when she heard from her with a photograph of the daughter. The last known location was Galway, Ireland."

"Galway." Voldemort gulped hard and nodded. "We'll go tomorrow. It's meant to storm terribly tonight, both here and in Ireland. We need clear skies. We'll go tomorrow. Fine work, Bella."

"Mum was so confused; she kept saying it could be different, but it's only been a week," Bellatrix pointed out. "Seems to me like the owl came from Galway straight away either before or after Hallowe'en. How do we know Andromeda will be in Galway?"

"We don't, but it's the best lead by far that we've got," Voldemort said. He yawned a little and shook his head. "I do apologise for my fatigue and my… being a little disheveled. You see, I… I was hard at work at something I can't even reveal to you, so…"

"I understand, Master," said Bellatrix very firmly, and the way he looked at her then made her feel very hungry indeed. She stared at him and put her hand on his bicep, and she whimpered softly with want.

"You're here," he noted, and she nodded.

"I am."

"I… I think… I believe that I want you," he told her, and Bellatrix's eyes welled heavily. She nodded and whispered,

"You may have whatever you want, My Lord. Including me."

"You've wanted me for ages," he murmured, stepping closer, and she felt her stomach flop as she reached up for his scratchy grey scruff. She nodded and affirmed,

"I have. I have wanted you… _oh_ , Master, I have wanted you…"

"More than you've wanted him. Rodolphus."

"I always think of you when I'm with him," Bellatrix said very honestly. "It's the only way I can make it through."

"Bellatrix." Voldemort took her face in his hands and bent to touch his forehead to hers. "I trust you. You are the _only_ one I trust. You understand?"

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix was getting excited now, wet between her legs from all this touching, all this talking, and she tried to kiss him. He brushed his lips against hers and whispered,

"You are different from the others."

"I only want to serve you," she replied, and he smiled a little as he nodded.

"I know."

He kissed her deeply then, very deeply indeed, and he put his hands on her waist as he began to lead her through an open set of French doors into an elaborately decorated green and white bedroom. It was dimly lit in here, and the bed was rumpled from where he'd been lying in it.

Suddenly he was stripping off Bellatrix's clothes, one piece at a time, and then he let her finish it off as he worked on the buttons of his pyjama shirt. Bellatrix took off her tunic, her bra, her skirt and her leggings and her knickers. She kicked away her boots and stockings, and then she was nude before Voldemort. He was nude before her. He wasn't exactly toned and lean, she noticed, but she didn't care. He had the body of a fifty-four-year-old man, and everything that could be expected of such a thing. He sagged in places; he was imperfect. But she adored him. As for herself, she was no longer eighteen, and she knew her breasts were not perfect round orbs anymore. But she was thin and had never borne a child, so she was smooth and free of lumps, at least. Still, they both had their flaws, and neither seemed to care all that much.

His hand went to her hip, where she was self-conscious about her shape, and he grunted softly with pleasure. Did he like her there? Bellatrix touched at his chest, where there was a soft dusting of grey hair, and she touched her forehead to the warm skin. She liked him here. He guided her down onto the bed and parted her legs at once, and Bellatrix whispered,

"Master, kiss me, please. Please. Please."

"Beg me some more," he smirked, and she stared right at him, knowing she was glassy-eyed with need as she hummed,

"Most merciful master, please, please, grant me a few kisses. Please kiss me. Please. Please, Master. Please."

"Good girl." He took his glasses off and set them beside the bed, and then he bent and kissed her so hard that she could barely breathe through it. Rodolphus was never anything like this - passionate and deep in his kisses. Suddenly Bellatrix felt a knee shove her thighs open, felt a sharp press and a fullness, and she threw her head back. He was enormous, she thought. Or, at least, he was far, far, far bigger than her husband. He felt so good, so wide inside of her. She moaned like an absolute whore as he ground his pelvis against hers, thrusting his cock in and out, in and out, in and out over and over again. Deep, so deep. So thick. Bellatrix pressed her palms to his back and breathed in the scent of him.

This was her lord and master. This was the man she'd craved, wanted, desired, needed for over thirteen years. She had wanted nothing more than this, than this very moment, since she'd been little more than a child. And here she was, a grown and married woman, with _him_ inside of her. She began to cry, burrowing her face against the crook of his neck and letting her tears soak his skin as she tightened her knees around him and hooked her ankles together. And when she came, it was like a bomb had detonated, and she cried out so loudly that he swallowed up her voice with another harsh kiss.

"Master," she croaked after the white-hot bliss and contractions had passed. "Master…"

"Bella." He sounded out of breath, like he'd run a great long race, and finally he jerked his hips and his face contorted like he was in serious pain. But Bellatrix knew better. He was finding his pleasure. He was finding his pleasure inside of _her_. That thought was almost too much to take, and fresh tears boiled over. She stared up at him as he twitched inside of her, as one of his hands squeezed at her breast, and she whispered,

"I adore you."

"Bella." He pulled out of her, letting a stream of his come follow him, and as he lay on the bed beside her, he mumbled, "I trust you're on a long-acting contraceptive potion."

"Of course, Master," she said earnestly. "Owing to the war, Rodolphus… erm… you know, I'm a soldier. Yes. I…"

She was babbling, she knew, but she was sweat-slicked and breathless and still recovering from the bliss he'd given her. He just nodded and his throat bobbed, and he mumbled,

"Get dressed and go home. Tomorrow we go to Ireland. I'll send for you."

"Y-Yes, Master," Bellatrix stammered, and she hurried out his bed, not bothering to Scour his come from between her legs. She liked it there. She liked the feel of it in her knickers when she got dressed. She was about to leave his bedroom when she heard him growl from where he lay in the bed,

"Bella."

"Master?" She turned round to see that he'd pulled the blankets up round himself, but he was beckoning with one finger. She hurried over, and he turned his face to her. He blinked slowly a few times and finally whispered,

"Kiss me goodnight."

Bellatrix smiled, unable to help herself, and bent down to kiss his cheek. But he wanted more. He seized her face and brought her mouth to his, and his tongue crept between her lips. Bellatrix let out a satisfied hum and kissed him back, caressing his chest, and when at last they broke away and she stood, she whispered,

"Goodnight, Master."

"Night, Bella," he said plainly, and she knew then that she should go, so she did.

 **Author's Note: Oh, my. These two are definitely starting to heat up and also get a little emotional with each other, no? Will they find Andromeda in Ireland? And if they do, will they find the Longbottoms? Hmm...**


	5. Chapter 5

_5 November 1981_

 _Galway, Ireland_

"This is like searching for a needle in a haystack," Voldemort complained. He wandered up Salthill Road, and Bellatrix asked confusedly from beside him,

"Couldn't you just Summon the needle out of the haystack, Master?"

"It's a Muggle expression," he muttered. He chewed his lip then, inspired, and he asked, "What's something that Andromeda might have with her? A… a piece of jewellery, or -"

"Oh! Her locket from Mum and Dad!" Bellatrix exclaimed, and Voldemort turned to her with his eyes raised. She grinned and nodded. "Andromeda got a brass locket on her eleventh birthday from my mother and father. She would never take it off; I know she wouldn't. Not even after they'd disowned her. I guarantee she still wears it."

Voldemort looked sceptical, but he looked round until he was certain no Muggles were watching, and he pulled his wand out. He aimed it before him and incanted,

" _Accio_ Locket of Andromeda Black Tonks."

Then he just stood there waiting, and Bellatrix mused,

"If it rips itself off of her neck, she'll know someone's looking for her, and she'll leave."

Voldemort huffed. "Yes. Probably."

It didn't matter. They waited an hour, and then he tried again by attempting to Summon Andromeda's wedding ring, and then the baby carriage of Nymphadora Tonks. Nothing worked. After hours of walking up Salthill Road Summoning one thing after another, the sun began to set, and Voldemort turned to Bellatrix and said,

"I do not suppose they are here. Or if they are, they are exceedingly well hidden. It's possible that they're being hidden, too, just like the Longbottoms."

"Master," Bellatrix suggested quietly, "perhaps I could have my mother write to Andromeda. You could Imperius her into doing it and then notifying me of the response as soon as she got one. You could track the owl, couldn't you? If she kept the owl, couldn't you track it?"

"There are spells for such things," Voldemort agreed. "If we Imperiused your mother into keeping the owl if Andromeda responded, I could track where the owl had come from. It doesn't seem as though we're going to easily find her in Galway by wandering around the city."

"Even though it is rather a small city," Bellatrix smiled. Voldemort stared down at her in the golden light of the setting sun, and suddenly his stomach grumbled. He glanced up to see a pub behind Bellatrix, and he murmured,

"Let's get dinner."

"What, in that Muggle pub there?" Bellatrix asked disbelievingly, and Voldemort smirked at her. They'd come dressed as inconspicuously as possible - she in a black velvet dress and Voldemort in a white shirt with a black waistcoat. He walked with her into the pub and sat at a booth as a fiddler, drummer, and singer warbled out some traditional Muggle Irish music. A cranky-looking old man came over and said in a thick Irish accent,

"What'll it be, then?"

"Oysters and brown bread and a pint of Guinness each," Voldemort said smoothly. Bellatrix looked amazed, and when the old man sauntered off, she hissed at Voldemort,

"You must let me pay you, Master."

"I'm not going to pay _him_ ," Voldemort smirked. "Why would I let you pay me? What did you tell Rodolphus?"

"I told him that I was on a secret mission and that I'd be home when I got home," Bellatrix said rather proudly. Voldemort's smirk widened, and he nodded. The two of them listened to the music for a long while, until at last Voldemort mumbled,

"Andromeda probably did move right after Halloween. I'm sure they all did. I'm sure they got very frightened after that, the lot of them."

"Cowards," Bellatrix said bitingly, but Voldemort countered,

"I'd scatter our people, too, if one of our major Death Eaters were suddenly taken out by Dumbledore himself."

"What would you do if Dumbledore killed me, Master?" Bellatrix asked, and she seemed genuinely curious. Voldemort felt bile rise in his throat at the thought of that. For some reason, the idea of a dead Bellatrix made him feel sick. He wanted to vomit at the sight in his mind of her face, cold and unmoving, her eyes staring straight ahead. He shook his head wildly and said,

"I can't think of that."

"But I will likely fall in battle," Bellatrix reminded him, and Voldemort whispered to himself,

"No. I won't allow that."

"I beg your pardon, Master?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort snapped,

"Stay alive, will you?"

She was wide-eyed then, but she nodded and promised him, "I shall certainly try, My Lord."

Their oysters and brown bread and stout beer came then, and they ate the food and drank the drink the silence. Voldemort Confounded the old man into thinking he'd already been paid, and he grasped Bellatrix's hand and led her quickly out of the booth and pub and into the street. It wasn't until they were on the cobblestones that he realised he was still holding her hand.

"It's late," he said, staring down at where his hand was holding hers. Bellatrix nodded, studying his face.

"Rodolphus is undoubtedly very jealous of my secret adventures," she said softly, but Voldemort snarled,

"I do not wish to hear about that boy just now."

"No?" Bellatrix dragged her thumb over his, and Voldemort swallowed past the lump in his throat as he whispered,

"No."

There was a long silence then, during which they just stood there in the street. It began to rain just a little, but it was a cold rain, and so Bellatrix shivered where she stood. Next door to the pub was a small inn, and the sign in the window, hand-painted, read, _Vacant Rooms Available._ The translation in Irish made no sense to Voldemort, but it was painted there, too. He walked up to the inn, still holding Bellatrix's hand, and he opened the door. She seemed surprised by what he was doing, and even more surprised when he Confounded the front desk worker into marking down that Tom Riddle had paid in full for a room and giving them a key. He still held Bellatrix's hand as they walked up the flight of stairs, as he opened the door to Room 3, as he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

It was a cosy little space, with a quilt on the stout wooden bed that was painted turquoise like the dresser and wardrobe and mirror on the wall. Voldemort opened the window a bit to let in some fresh air, and then he lit the electric Muggle lamp in the corner and stalked over to Bellatrix. He took her face in his hands and bent to kiss her, tasting the rain on her lips, and suddenly something snapped inside of him.

He couldn't just let her die. He couldn't just let some stray Killing Curse wipe her out. He needed her alive. He wanted her with him. He kissed her harder, pressing her against the wall, and he murmured down against her mouth,

"Bella…"

He could never tell her about his Horcruxes. That was not for her to know. But could he teach her to make one? Could he help her create one so that she might be less susceptible to the easy death that befell his soldiers in this war? She fought harder than anyone. She was more likely to die than anyone.

He could not let her die.

"Bellatrix." He pulled her off the wall and heard her breath quick in the air of the little inn room. The rain outside was soft and gentle. The light was warm and diffuse. She looked beautiful right now. Why did she belong to Rodolphus? She didn't. She was Voldemort's, in her entirety. He tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed at her cheekbone, and then she whispered in an embarrassed voice,

"I'm… I'm bleeding. It's that time of the calendar, Master."

Somehow, he didn't care. He didn't care about thrusting into her right now. He didn't care about squeezing her nipples, about teasing her clit. Somehow, that didn't matter. Not right now.

"Just lie down with me," he commanded her, keeping his voice stern. He kicked off his shoes and lay down on the creaky bed, and when Bellatrix joined him atop the quilt, he urged her to curl up beside him. He stared at the ceiling and informed her,

"I will not simply let you die in battle. I have a plan."

"Have you, Master?" Bellatrix sounded almost amused. Of course she did. She knew nothing of the power of Horcruxes. She stared up at him and read the seriousness on his face, and then her little smile disappeared. She tucked her face against his chest and whispered, "I suppose Rodolphus is probably with Edna tonight."

"Edna. Who is Edna?" asked Voldemort sharply, and when Bellatrix was silent for a moment, Voldemort furrowed his brow and scoffed, "He has a girlfriend?"

"I tried to get him to leave her, but it isn't as though I have much leverage as a Pureblood wife in an arranged marriage," Bellatrix complained. "And, anyway, there's a war on. There are far more important things to concern ourselves with than whether -"

"You let him _fuck_ you whilst he's got a girlfriend?" Voldemort snarled, and Bellatrix gulped as she shrugged and mumbled,

"Didn't seem worth the fight, My Lord."

"You're not to be intimate with him again. Do you understand me?" Voldemort growled viciously. He sat up, and Bellatrix came with him. She pushed her curls out of her face, and she sighed as she said,

"Master, I don't suppose Rodolphus has been faithful to me for any extended period of our eight year marriage. But if you command it, I will -"

"I do command it. You're not to be touched by that boy. He's to keep his filthy paws off of you!" Voldemort said, knowing he sounded petulant and childish and not caring. He sounded possessive, he thought. He sounded like he craved Bellatrix for his own. He shut his eyes and said far more gravely,

"It's late. Let us go to bed. In the morning, we'll go back to England. You can Imperius your mother. I will speak to Rodolphus myself. Let's go to bed. It's late."

Voldemort put his glasses on the table beside the bed. He took off his waistcoat and tie and unbuttoned his shirt, and then he took off his trousers and slept in his underwear. Bellatrix slept in her velvet dress. They settled beneath the quilt, which was a surprisingly comfortable place to be. He liked having her curled up beside him, her arm tentatively placed on his ribs. He encouraged her to get nearer.

He could not just let her die.

"Bellatrix," he said softly into the dimly-lit room, the quiet rainfall still pattering outside.

"Hmm…" She was almost asleep, he realised. He kissed at her forehead, and he informed her again,

"I won't let you die."

"Master," she hummed, and she nuzzled her face against his chest a bit before she was lost to sleep.

 **Author's Note: Uh-oh. He's starting to feel real possession over her and affection for her. Where will** _ **that**_ **lead in this storyverse?**


	6. Chapter 6

_6 November 1981_

 _Galway, Ireland_

When she woke, Bellatrix saw Voldemort's face beside her. She gasped a little and stirred. How was it possible that she was actually lying here beside him? She couldn't be. He smelled like licorice, like something dark and spicy. She kissed at his shirt a little and felt him move a bit, and he whispered,

"Bella."

She stared at her wedding rings on her left hand, her diamond engagement ring and her platinum wedding band, and she thought of Rodolphus.

"Why are you thinking of him right now?" Voldemort growled, and she realised he'd been inside of her head. She snapped her eyes up to him, to where he was lying with his eyes closed, and she admitted,

"I'm thinking of how he's probably in bed with Edna right now. Master."

"You are mine. My soldier," Voldemort said, his voice a low rumble in the chilly inn room. Bellatrix's lips parted as she stared at him, and at last she nodded and affirmed,

"I belong entirely to you, My Lord."

She bent then and kissed his neck a little, which he seemed to like immensely. He bucked his hips up a little when she did it again, and Bellatrix's hand went on instinct to his underwear. She grazed her knuckles there, over the half-hard cock she could feel through the material, and suddenly Voldemort was digging his teeth into his lip. He opened his eyes for the first time, blinking once or twice, and when he turned his face toward Bellatrix, his gaze was out of focus. Was his vision as bad as all that, she wondered? Why didn't he just fix it with magic?

"It's magic that mucked up the vision, Bella; magic won't put it to rights."

"Oh." Bellatrix didn't understand, but she glanced to the table beside the bed and reached for his thick, black-rimmed glasses. She handed them to Voldemort, who slid them on and scoffed,

"There. Now I can see you. Beautiful."

Bellatrix's eyes welled at that, at _him_ calling her 'beautiful.' She'd never imagined he would ever use such a word with her. But as she grazed her hand around his hardening erection, he shut his eyes behind the lenses of his glasses and mumbled again,

"Beautiful."

He let her pull his cock out from his underwear, which she shoved down. He murmured a lubrication charm and let her pump her hand on him, let her play with his tip and stare and stare and stare. She ogled him like he was fresh meat and she was starving. She studied the veins, the shape of the tip, the length of his shaft, the colour of it all. She sat up and moved her hand briskly, her fingers flying round his tip as her palm caressed his shaft until at last he groaned and shoved his hips up and clutched at the sheets tightly.

"Bella," he said through clenched teeth, and his come leaped out in creamy ropes that landed all over Bellatrix's fingers and wrist. She shivered at the feel of it - warm and smooth - and she tried to register the notion that she had her master's come upon her flesh. She stared at her own hand, at his cock, at his face. She just stared.

Finally he reached for his wand and cleaned them both up as he went soft in her grip, and Bellatrix said quietly,

"I'm sorry, My Lord; I just had the urge to touch you."

"Well. Don't ever apologise for _that_ ," he japed, and then his face went serious as he informed her, "I haven't been touched by a witch since I was… well, younger than you are now. It's been decades. I haven't allowed it because it has seemed like an impediment to my climb. But I ought to have allowed it."

"You wish you'd had witches." Bellatrix nodded, and he seemed to carefully consider his words then before he said,

"I wish I had had you."

Bellatrix couldn't breathe for a moment. All those years of wanting him, craving him, needing him, and here he was saying he wished he'd taken her. She blinked back tears and whispered,

"I should go Imperius my mother at once, shouldn't I? Get as much information as we can."

"Yes, you should." Voldemort sat up and reached for his tie, buttoning up his white shirt as he pulled the tie over his head. "Go to London and set up that arrangement we discussed, Bellatrix. I'll handle your husband."

Bellatrix froze for a moment, but then she nodded. "Yes, Master."

* * *

 _8 November 1981_

 _Malfoy Manor_

"Rodolphus," said Voldemort as his office door opened. "Do come in."

Rodolphus Lestrange confidently strode into the office, bowed his head, and sat in the chair opposite Voldemort.

"Master," he said warmly. "How may I be of service to you?"

"Who is Edna?" asked Voldemort plainly, and Rodolphus' smile vanished. He cleared his throat and said carefully,

"Edna Rosier, sir. Bellatrix's… erm… second cousin. She's a very dear friend of mine."

"A very dear friend," Voldemort repeated with a nod. "How long have the two of you been very dear friends?"

Rodolphus' cheeks went red, and he mumbled something unintelligible.

"What's that?" snapped Voldemort. "Couldn't hear you, boy."

"I said, sir, that we've been together for about five years."

"Five years." Voldemort's voice was lethally soft then. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Is Bellatrix not enough for you?"

Rodolphus' jaw dropped, and he stammered, "I… she… we were never… we were matched, you understand, so…"

"So you are only moderately attracted to Bellatrix," Voldemort said, narrowing his eyes. "No doubt you're quite pleased that she has to be on an extended contraceptive potion owing to the war. I've no doubt you lack the initiative and the will to procreate with her."

"I do sleep with her, Master," said Rodolphus, sounding humiliated, his hands knitting anxiously in his lap. Voldemort tipped his head.

"I'm aware. I saw it in her mind. Not exactly the most ardently passionate lovemaking I've ever seen. I'm sure you're more excitable with Edna."

"Master." Rodolphus shut his eyes and said carefully, "I am well aware that Bellatrix harbours a long-standing and very strong longing for you, and -"

"She belongs to me in her entirety," Voldemort said in a hiss, and Rodolphus opened his eyes. He nodded, looking frightened, and Voldemort said, "Keep your little Edna. And keep your hands off of Bellatrix. Her body is mine as much as her soul is. She may be your wife according to documentation, Lestrange, but Bellatrix is my creature to do with as I please. And you know damned well that she wants me, not you."

"I do know that." Rodolphus' face had gone white now, and Voldemort sniffed a little as he said,

"Give her her own sleeping space in Castle Lestrange."

"She and I maintain separate quarters, Master," Rodolphus assured him, and Voldemort nodded.

"Keep to Edna. Leave Bellatrix to me."

"Yes, Master," Rodolphus said softly. There was a little knock on the office door then, and Voldemort smirked.

"Enter."

The door opened, and Bellatrix came walking inside. She froze when she saw Rodolphus sitting opposite Voldemort.

"Master," she said quietly, "I did not mean to interrupt."

"You are not interrupting; your husband and I have finished our business. I think we quite understand one another," Voldemort nodded. "Dismissed, Lestrange."

Rodolphus rose and bowed at the waist, and then he nodded respectfully to Bellatrix as he passed by her. When the door opened and shut again, Voldemort folded his hands on his desk and cocked up a brow at Bellatrix.

"Well?"

"Master," she said, looking rather excited, "There is an owl waiting for you in London, at my parents' house. Waiting to be tracked."

 **Author's Note: Will they find Andromeda? And if they do, will they find the Longbottoms? Duh duh duhhhhh. Gotta love possessive Voldemort, right?**

 **For those who have asked why I write older Voldemort with glasses, here's why - 1) he's 54, and a lot of middle-aged men wear glasses, 2) he's messed with a lot of Dark Magic, which we know has altered his appearance and definitely could mess with his senses, 3) it's just a visual interest thing.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	7. Chapter 7

_8 November 1981_

 _Kensington, London_

Lord Voldemort was holding his wand against the feathers of the brown owl, who was twitching where it sat. Bellatrix watched in wonder. She knew nothing of the spells or intense mental concentration it would take to track an owl. Surely she wasn't powerful enough to do such a thing. But Voldemort was powerful enough, she thought, for just about anything. He'd taught her Occlumency a few years back, so that if she were captured, she wouldn't reveal anything about his hideout or anything to _personal_ , as he'd said then. What she knew now was far more _personal_ , but in any case, he'd had no trouble at all teaching Bellatrix Occlumency, and he was a Legilimens. His mind, she knew, was incredibly powerful.

Now he touched his wand to the owl and tapped it a few times, and when he pulled it away, Bellatrix glanced down to her mother, who was Imperiused to sit with her eyes shut and in perfect silence, facing away from them. Her father was at work, she knew. The letter that had come from Andromeda was simple but significant.

 _Mum,_

 _I wish you would accept my husband and daughter. If ever you loved me, accept that their Blood Status has no bearing on who they are. Who we are. Someday you'll see._

 _Andy_

"She's here in London," Voldemort breathed. "This owl came from Shoreditch. I can see the flat in my head. Hoxton Street. I could Apparate there." He gave Bellatrix a wide-eyed look and backed away a little, and he said, "I'll meet you out front. Take off the Imperius Curse and alter her memory. Meet me out front."

Then he Vanished the owl and the letter, and Bellatrix nodded as he walked out the front door of the townhouse. Bellatrix aimed her wand at her mother and twisted it, whispering a Memory Replacement charm, and she began to carefully fill her mother's head with the idea that Bellatrix had come for tea, that they'd chatted a bit about Rodolphus' pesky girlfriend. She lowered her wand and took off the Imperius Curse, and she cleared her throat where she stood before her mother. Druella stood and said quietly,

"I am so very sorry, darling, that he's been unfaithful for so long and you're just now finding out. I don't blame you one bit for, you know, keeping your distance, as it were."

"I have more important work to do," Bellatrix said gravely. "I'm a soldier. That's what really matters in my life."

"Of course." Druella bowed her head and sighed. "Have you heard that Draco's saying two words at a time now? _Mummy give! Daddy give!_ "

"Does he just demand that things be given to him?" Bellatrix grinned, and Druella smiled a bit as she good-naturedly demanded,

"Would he be Cissy's son if he were asking politely instead of throwing a tantrum, Bella?"

"Right you are," Bellatrix said with a little smile. She kissed her mother's forehead and whispered, "Got to go. See you later, Mum."

"Later, then, darling." Druella watched Bellatrix hurry toward the foyer and out the front door. Bellatrix pattered down the steps and out the front gate, and then she looked to her left to see Voldemort standing there in robes. Luckily, it was not a busy time of day on the sidewalk, though he did get one odd look from a passing Muggle woman. Bellatrix watched as he wandlessly Confounded the woman, who trembled as she walked. She wouldn't mind having seen the odd man in the robes now, Bellatrix knew. She approached Voldemort, who held out an arm and insisted,

"You must be ready to kill her."

"Oh, I'm ready, Master," Bellatrix insisted.

"And the daughter. Nymphadora," Voldemort posited, but Bellatrix shrugged.

"She's of no importance to me, My Lord."

"Then let's go," he said, and she took his arm as he Disapparated. There was a black, pinching whirling, and then they landed hard. Bellatrix looked round to see a red brick building before them. Voldemort appeared to be studying the building, and she realised he was using Legilimency to feel out the minds inside.

"There are two Muggles on the ground floor," he said, "and three Magical minds on the first floor. Nymphadora, Ted, and Andromeda Tonks."

"No one else is here with them?" Bellatrix asked quietly, and Voldemort shook his head, marveling.

"No one else is here. Foolish Dumbledore."

"It's just like Andy to insist they could go it alone," Bellatrix said. "How about I grab the girl and hold her hostage whilst you interrogate the elder two, Master?"

"Yes, we'll try that first," he nodded. "You may need to kill her to get anything out of them."

"Ready," Bellatrix said lightly. Voldemort strode up to the door and unlocked it with his wand, and then he charged up the stairs inside the building. Bellatrix followed him, holding her wand carefully. She trotted to keep up with the way he skipped steps, and then at the top of the landing, he unlocked the door leading to the upstairs flat and she scurried up beside him.

"Ted!" cried a voice. "They've come!"  
" _Expelliarmus!"_ called Bellatrix. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Two wands soared through the air toward her, and she snapped them each quickly, tossing the broken wands down onto the ground. A little girl came dashing out from a dimly-lit kitchen, her wild pink hair sprouting out oddly from her head, and her face suddenly sprouted into a frog's. A Metamorphagus. The girl was a Metamorphagus. How fascinating.

" _Stupefy!"_ screamed Bellatrix, and the little Metamorphagus went flying roughly against the wallpaper.

"Nymphadora!" screamed Andromeda, who came rushing into the sitting room looking as lovely as ever. She eyed her sister and shook her head frantically. She was wandless; she'd been Disarmed. Voldemort shut and warded the door, and Bellatrix hurried over to where Nymphadora was, aiming her wand at Ted and Andromeda.

"What do you want of us?" Andromeda begged, and Ted stepped forward bravely.

"They want me. I'm the Mudblood, innit? Take me, then. Go on; take the sacrifice you want."  
"I require information," Voldemort said, and Bellatrix could tell he was searching minds again. He narrowed his eyes at Andromeda and then Ted and flicked his gaze to Bellatrix.

"The Secret Keeper was Fabian Prewett, but he died. He went into battle with a few of our Death Eaters thinking he was going to die, and so he told our friend Ted here."

"You can't torture it out of me," said Ted, tipping his head up proudly.

"Ted, don't tell them!" cried Andromeda. "Don't tell them!"

"I won't," said Ted. "I'll never tell them."

"He doesn't have to," said Voldemort with a small, wicked smile. "I wouldn't be able to get it directly out of his mind with Legilimency, but I can see the memory of Fabian Prewett telling him when _he_ was the Secret-Keeper. The Longbottoms are on King Street in Whalley. Burnham House."

Ted Tonks' eyes went very wide, and Andromeda let out a little shriek of horror.

"Kill them, Master!" Bellatrix cried. "Kill them now! Now that we know!"

"Do it!" he exclaimed, and she aimed her wand at the Metamorphagus girl on the ground.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " Voldemort cried, and explosion of green bursting from his wand. Ted Tonks crumpled, and Andromeda's blood-curdling scream could have woken the dead. Only, it didn't. She fell to her knees, and Bellatrix watched as another Killing Curse from Voldemort's wand hit her.

"Tattoo the sky, Bella!" Voldemort ordered, and Bellatrix aimed her wand skyward and screamed,

" _Morsmordre!"_  
"Let's go," he said, "before they can move them. We need to go _now_. Now, to Whalley!"

 **Author's Note: Oh, no! They're inching closer to the Longbottoms! Once they eliminate them, most major impediments to Voldemort's rise to power will be gone. What will that mean for his relationship with Bellatrix?**


	8. Chapter 8

_8 November 1981_

 _Burnham House, Whalley_

" _Expelliarmus!"_

"No! Not Neville! Not Neville!"

" _Avada Kedavra."_

Bellatrix incanted the spell with preternatural calm. Voldemort had already snapped Alice Longbottom's wand in two and thrown it onto the floor beside Frank Longbottom's body. Now there was a flash of green light that smacked into Alice Longbottom where she stood in the sitting room. She was trying to make a mad dash toward the nursery, but she wasn't going to make it there. Voldemort stormed quickly over her body after she fell, and he didn't spare a glance into the eyes of the small child, Neville, as he aimed his wand at him and incanted in a snarl,

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

There was a blinding flash of green light, and then it was done.

It was done.

Frank and Alice Longbottom and the little boy, Neville, were dead. James and Lily Potter and their little boy, Harry, were dead. And even Andromeda and Ted Tonks and their girl, Nymphadora, were dead. Nine victims in nine days, but all of them necessary. All of them related to a prophecy foretelling Voldemort's downfall.

"Let's go, Bellatrix," Voldemort said loudly. " _Morsmordre!_ Back to Malfoy Manor!"

At the Manor, Bellatrix trotted quickly behind him, and he said over his shoulder to her,

"Send an owl to Castle Lestrange. Have your owl pack some of your belongings into an Expanded suitcase and have it sent here at once. Go, Bella. Now! Up to the owlery. Go!"

Bellatrix didn't question him. She just ran up ahead. They hadn't had time to talk properly since before he'd been meeting with Rodolphus, since before they'd tracked the owl and found Andromeda, since before they'd found and killed the Longbottoms. Now Bellatrix ran ahead to send a message to her House-Elf, and Voldemort knew exactly what he wanted. What he needed. But first, there needed to be a meeting.

He peeled back his sleeve and pressed his wand to his Dark Mark, Summoning all of his most important Death Eaters. One by one, they started appearing in the gardens behind him, and he continued up into the manor. They followed him, walking quickly behind him as he hurried into the meeting room.

"Save this seat," Voldemort ordered before Avery could sit beside him. He waited in silence, knowing he was making his Death Eaters uncomfortable, until Bellatrix came dashing into the room, having come from the owlery. Bellatrix collapsed into the seat beside him, blowing curls out of her eyes, and the others eyed her curiously. Voldemort finally said calmly,

"Andromeda, Ted, and Nymphadora Tonks. Frank, Alice, and Neville Longbottom. Dead. All with the Dark Mark above their homes."

The others squirmed, their faces happy. Everyone knew those were enemies, even if they couldn't comprehend the details of the prophecy. They knew that it was a good thing for the Potters, the Tonkses, and the Longbottoms to be dead. This was a high time for their master, for their movement.

"I require a brief respite after all this," Voldemort said, folding his hands on the table. "I'm sure you understand why. I've done a lot of…"

 _Killing._

"Work," he said. "And our enemies will try to engage us now more than ever. But now is the time for us to go underground, to be undiscoverable for a while. I want all of you in hiding for a few weeks, except for those of you managing to work at the Ministry or live in the open. I will be going on a holiday of sorts. Abraxas Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy, I will be in touch with you to stay apprised of the situation here. Rodolphus Lestrange… that situation you and I discussed is in full force. Are there any questions?"

No one dared raise a hand, but Yaxley said cautiously,

"Congratulations, Master."

"Thank you, Yaxley," Voldemort smirked. He nodded and said, "Let's all be cautious for the next few weeks. We'll plan on our next strike soon enough. Dismissed. Bellatrix, stay."

She seemed to understand now. She had a suitcase coming from her House-Elf. Her husband had been cryptically notified that she would not be coming home. And Voldemort was putting everyone on hold until he could get some rest. Well, of course he needed rest after all of this, he thought to himself. Didn't she understand that? She did seem to. She stared at him as the room cleared out, and once everyone had gone and the doors shut, she asked,

"Where are we going, Master?"

"The Isle of Mull, off the west coast of Scotland," said Voldemort. "I've maintained a residence there for years. I go there alone; I've never taken anyone there. It's a quiet place where I like to watch whales."

"Whales," Bellatrix smiled, and she asked, "You can see them from the shore?"

"You know I can fly," Voldemort teased her. "I see them from above. Not in November, usually."

"Master," Bellatrix breathed. He seemed a little ashamed then, and he said,

"Be aware, this house is just a little terraced house along the shore, a place I commandeered from the Muggles living there, and -"

"I'm sure it's just fine, Master," Bellatrix insisted. She rose from her chair and said, "I'm exhausted from everything we've done. Aren't you? Maybe we ought to go to Mull, My Lord."

* * *

The house was painted light blue, and as Voldemort walked up to the front door, he mumbled to Bellatrix,

"It's got spells and wards to make the Muggles forget that nobody's ever here."

"Brilliant," she whispered, holding her suitcase beside him. He opened the front door and pushed inside, and he flicked his wand at the illegally converted lights - electric to candlelight.

"This is lovely," Bellatrix hummed. The sitting room to the left had golden walls and grey furniture, and to the right was a dark blue dining room. A bright white kitchen was beyond the dining room, and a bathroom was beyond the sitting room. Voldemort walked up the stairs, and Bellatrix followed him. He showed her the two spare bedrooms, the one outfitted in shades of blue and the one in black and white. Then he took her into the larger master bedroom, which was a dark hunter green. Slytherin green.

Voldemort turned to Bellatrix and set down his own suitcase as he informed her,

"I have never brought anyone else here before."

"That's what you said, My Lord," she nodded. "I am honoured to be here with you."

"I need to rest," Voldemort said quietly. "We both need to rest. Killing takes a lot out of you. Aren't you tired?"

"I'm a little weary," Bellatrix admitted, "but I don't mind. Not one bit."

She was incredibly pretty right now, he thought. He sighed and felt death on the both of them. He thought of the spacious shower-bath in the master bathroom and suggested,

"Bathe with me, will you?"

Bellatrix's eyes went wide, but she nodded and began to strip off her clothes. She unlatched the wide belt around her narrow waist and then peeled off her velvet tunic. She stripped down her leggings and underwear and kicked off her high boots. She stood before Voldemort in a black bra and black knickers, and he said quietly,

"Stop. Stop for a moment."

She paused, and he marveled at the shape her bra gave her breasts. Shapely round mounds that spilled out over the top of the bra… he gulped as he started to flush between his legs. Bellatrix took slow breaths, and with every one, her breasts seemed to look more beautiful. She just stared and stared at him, and finally Voldemort stripped off his robes one layer at a time. He stood before her in his underwear, feeling very vulnerable with his erection, and he informed her,

"You're beautiful, you know. And you killed so magnificently for me. I felt… strongly… about you. In those houses."

"Did you, My Lord?" Bellatrix's eyes went wet, and she reached to unhook her bra. She peeled down her knickers and approached him nude, and she whispered, "I felt very strongly about you myself, whilst we were fighting."

"Fighting. Is that what we were doing? Killing. We were killing," Voldemort corrected her, and Bellatrix curled up half her mouth as she put her hands on his bare chest and kissed the spot where his hair covered his sternum.

"Killing," she whispered, nodding. Suddenly thoughts of a shower went out the window, and Voldemort decided he could not wait to take her. He shoved his underwear down and growled at her,

"You killed like a genius. Like a bloody fucking genius, Bellatrix."

She laughed a little and shrugged. "I learnt from the best. The very best, Master."

"Get on the bed," he insisted, and she seemed breathless then as she hurried to scramble onto the green quilt. He quite liked the sight of her on her hands and knees, and he mumbled,

"Stay like that."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, smirking like a vixen, and when he approached her, he put his fingers between her legs and felt wet. She was wet for him; she wanted him. He twisted his fingers into her body and pumped them hard, and she cried out, collapsing down onto her elbows and burying her face in the pillows. Voldemort played with her clit using his thumb, reaching around her body with his left hand and squeezing hard at her breast. He teased her nipple, teased her clit, and all the while he pumped his fingers as though she needed each thrust to breathe. Finally he felt her twitching, felt her coming around his fingers, and he groaned loudly at the sensation of her orgasm. She'd come so easily, as though the very suggestion of touch from her lord and master was enough to send her over the edge. Perhaps it was. Perhaps she adored him so ferociously that all she needed from him was a few pumps of his fingers, a few flicks of his thumbs, and then she would come. Well, good. It felt good.

He replaced his fingers with his cock, shoving into her and listening to her scream into the pillow where he usually slept here. He rammed himself into her so hard then that he felt sweat at his hairline. He growled and grunted, squeezing at her little waist and hearing her moan against fabric. She was wet, hot, tight around his shaft, around his tip. It felt beyond anything he'd ever experienced, and he was going to finish before he knew what was happening. But he hammered away, grinding into her harder and harder until the bed was creaking and moaning just as loudly as Bellatrix was doing.

On instinct, he spanked the cheek of her backside a little, and that did him in. He felt his orgasm smack him like a cold ocean wave that suddenly went hot. White hot, good, _good_ in his veins. He couldn't breathe through it, through the pumping of his come in spurts into her body, through the way his body was tingling from head to toe. He stayed inside of her for a very long while, trying to catch his breath, and at long last he heard Bellatrix's muffled voice ask,

"You mentioned something about bathing, Master?"

Bathing together after sex, as it turned out, was even more pleasant than bathing together before sex. They were sated; they were comfortable. She rubbed the soap all over his skin and scrubbed at him with his sponge, and he used a wide-toothed wooden comb to pass her TanglAway Serum through her clean curls. It felt profoundly intimate, and somehow Voldemort didn't mind that bit of it. He liked that bit of it. He liked standing in the shower with Bellatrix, clean and satisfied. He liked lying in the green bed with her in his secret house on the Isle of Mull.

And as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling with her curled up beside him, remembering the sight of her face in the green glow of Killing Curses, he realised that he absolutely, positively, could not let her die.

She needed a Horcrux.

 **Author's Note: Ah, yes. The one part of my Bellamort stories I'm willing to let be "repetitive" because I always do it a bit differently - Bellatrix getting a Horcrux. How will it happen in this storyverse? Also - side note - the Longbottoms are dead! Eek!**


	9. Chapter 9

_9 November 1981_

 _Isle of Mull_

"A… A Horcrux?" Bellatrix repeated, staring across the dining room table at Voldemort. They were both eating porridge and drinking tea, and he'd brought up the idea of her making a Horcrux. He'd only just begun explaining what one even was. "So it'll… split my soul?"

"Yes, but in doing so, it will preserve you from an ordinary death," Voldemort pronounced. He cleared his throat and took a bite of porridge, and then he said, "I… it has been many years that you've… admired me."

"I have been in love with you," Bellatrix said bluntly, "for many years, yes, Master."

"I know." He quirked up half his mouth and looked almost wistful. "I only found out recently that I actually cared about that, Bellatrix. And I do care about it, you see, rather thoroughly."

"Master." She lowered her eyes, staring into her porridge bowl. After a while, he said softly,

"And so I can not let you simply die in battle."

"How do they work?" Bellatrix asked. "You have one of them? The Horcruxes?"

"I have… several," Voldemort corrected. He folded his hands again and said carefully, "One must have murder fresh on the soul. It can only be split successfully if there is murder fresh upon it."

"How fresh?" Bellatrix asked. "I've just killed yesterday."

"Yes. Those deaths are fresh enough, if we make your Horcrux today," Voldemort said. "The deaths from the Tonkses and the Longbottoms. The difficult part comes when you cast the spells upon the object you choose to hold the split bit of your soul. You'll say the spell a total of one hundred times."

"One hundred?" Bellatrix asked in shock. "How will I keep count?"

"Oh, you'll know when you hit one hundred," said Voldemort. "You'll be socked with the most vicious, violent pain you can possibly imagine. And that pain will last for twenty-four hours. It will rip you to shreds inside. You'll think you're screaming the entire while. You'll think you're dying. But when you wake up, you'll feel more alive than ever. You'll look more tired, more worn, a little broken, even."

"I'll look broken?" Bellatrix asked worriedly, but Voldemort assured her,

"It's not bad at all the first time. You'll have a few grey hairs and bags beneath your eyes. It's worth it, Bellatrix. Worth it not to die. I have an object for you to use."

"You have?" Bellatrix asked, feeling breathless and overwhelmed. Voldemort slid a hairbrush toward her. Bellatrix wasn't even sure where it had come from, and then she realised he had Conjured it. She frowned, until he said,

"Keep it here. Keep it here in my house on the Isle of Mull."

Bellatrix studied the brass hairbrush, which was square and elegant, and she nodded.

"My soul will be inside this hairbrush."

"I will keep it safe for you," he told her, and Bellatrix's eyes watered at that. She felt profound love for him, all of a sudden, and she needed to tell him.

"I adore you, Master," she whispered. "I adore you more than you could ever possibly -"

"I do know. I do understand," he nodded crisply, and he informed her, "That's why I am protecting you, Bellatrix. Let's get to work. Finish your porridge."

Bellatrix found that she had very little appetite, but she ate when Voldemort insisted she would need her strength. Bellatrix went upstairs with Voldemort, and he told her,

"Before you do this, I want to take you flying."

"Flying?" Bellatrix asked. She looked outside. It was frigid and raining. It did not seem like good weather for flying. Voldemort opened a window in the master bedroom, though, and he grabbed Bellatrix before she could protest.

Suddenly they were whipping through the air, flying faster than Bellatrix could believe. Things were whizzing by her so quickly she couldn't make them out, and then, very abruptly, Voldemort came to a stop. Bellatrix only then realised she had been screaming. Voldemort was holding fast to her, clutching her close, and he was hovering high above the sea as though they were on a broomstick.

"Look down," he instructed her, and Bellatrix cautiously did as he commanded. She gasped when she saw the shadows of whales in the grey, churning sea beneath them. They came up to surface, leaving puffs of water vapour behind when they did, and Voldemort laughed with a shiver,

"I wanted you to see the whales before you felt the pain," Voldemort said. "They've always brought me comfort, strangely."

"I can see why, Master." Bellatrix clung to him, wrapping her arms and legs round him, and she let him fly them more slowly back toward the blue house. They seemed to shrink down to fit into the window, and then they were standing, soaked, in the master bedroom again.

* * *

"The incantation is _Creatio Horcrux Meus._ " Voldemort tucked Bellatrix into the guest bedroom, the bed in the blue bedroom, and she shook with nerves as she gripped her wand in one hand and the hairbrush in the other.

"Goodbye, Master," she whispered, but he laughed at her and said,

"There is no goodbye, Bella. You'll still be you after this, and you'll be protected. We are doing this to protect you. You understand. I know you understand."

"I understand." Bellatrix heard the shake in her own voice. She spared one last glance toward her lord and master, toward his handsome grey-haired face with his black glasses. She stared at him for a long moment and then shut her eyes.

" _Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus."_ She quickly lost count of how many times she had said the spell, but she dutifully kept incanting it. She felt a sudden crack, a sudden break inside of her, and she gasped.

"Keep going, Bellatrix," said a stern voice, her master's voice. Bellatrix kept on.

" _Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus. Creatio Horcrux Meus."_

With every passing incantation, her energy faded away until at last she felt everything go tight and snap. But unlike an orgasm, this snapping was like getting shot with a Muggle gun.

Bellatrix screamed.

She kept screaming. It hurt. It hurt so badly. It was like fifty thousand needles all stabbing her from the inside out. It was like knives slicing her muscles open all at once, saws cutting through her bones. It was like arrows shooting into her, Cruciatus Curses hitting her and being sustained. It was like her blood was being drained, like her fingernails were being pulled off, like her teeth were being pulled out. It was like her hair was being plucked out one strand at a time. It was like every pore of her flesh was being penetrated by a separating Stinging Hex. Everything hurt. Everything, everything, everywhere hurt.

And then, suddenly, she was awake.

She blinked a few times and caught her breath.

"Water."

She turned her face and saw Voldemort holding out a cup of water from where he'd pulled up a chair beside the bed. She drank deeply from the water and coughed and sputtered a little.

"How is it possible?" Voldemort murmured, and Bellatrix asked hoarsely,

"How is what possible, Master?"

"You look more beautiful than ever," he insisted, and he quickly Conjured a mirror. Bellatrix frowned as she looked at her reflection. She looked a few years younger, perhaps. More refreshed, like she'd spent a good solid few weeks at rest. She flicked her eyes up to Voldemort and asked,

"Is this not what happened for you?"  
"It broke me a little, every time," he said. "I was a handsome young boy the first time; I got a few wrinkles that first go. You're lucky. You took to it differently. But you've always been different, Bella, haven't you?"

"Did it work?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort nodded firmly.

"I put it in a safe place in the writing desk downstairs. You'll be drawn to it if you ever need it," he said. "Now. Just rest. You've been through the wringer, haven't you?"

"It wasn't so bad," she mused softly. "It hurt like hell, but… to stay alive for you, My Lord, I'd endure that pain a thousand times over."

"Well." He smirked at her and said, "I won't ask that of you. I am proud. You make me proud."

Bellatrix felt tears come to her eyes, and she nodded. "I always want to make you proud."

"I realised something," he said carefully, pushing up his glasses, "whilst you were… sleeping."

"You did?" Bellatrix sat up a little, and Voldemort nodded.

"All these years you've been enamoured with me, I've ignored something very important," he said, "which is… how I really do feel about you. And that is to say… I feel extremely strongly about you, Bellatrix. And I would like you to stop living at Castle Lestrange when we go back. I would like for you to stay with me."

He wasn't barking orders. It was almost like he was asking. But Bellatrix knew better, so she whispered carefully,

"As you command, Master."

 **Author's Note: Whew! She's got her Horcrux! And he feels** _ **very**_ **strongly about her! And he wants her to live with him! And the Longbottoms are dead! Anyone feel Dumbledore coming on?**


	10. Chapter 10

_12 November 1981_

 _Isle of Mull_

"Master, the owl's come back!" Bellatrix said, pattering down the stairs into the sitting room. She had a letter in her hand, and it had obviously been waterproofed. It was pounding rain outside, and the letter appeared completely dry. Voldemort wandlessly Summoned the letter from her hands and broke open the Malfoy seal on the envelope, pulling out the letter inside.

 _Most Benevolent and Fearsome Master,_

 _Evan Rosier was intercepted in travel by Alastor Moody. Though Moody sustained serious and permanent injuries, he escaped. Evan Rosier was killed._

 _Albus Dumbledore and the remnants of the Order of the Phoenix attempted to enter Malfoy Manor. A dozen or so of us held them off; they left when we took Dedalus Diggle hostage on our side of the wards and shields._

 _We killed Diggle after interrogating him; he revealed that Dumbledore is planning on brute force attacks on whatever Death Eaters he can find._

 _I hope this information is useful, Master. It is my recommendation as your lieutenant and as your servant that you stay hidden even to us, so that if we are captured, we might not surrender your whereabouts to the Order of the Phoenix. To that end, I will expect a response only if you have specific orders for me that differ from what we have been doing. I trust in you, Master. We all do._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Abraxas Malfoy_

"I have to kill Dumbledore," Voldemort scowled, and Bellatrix asked softly,

"With all respect, My Lord, hasn't that been what you've been trying to do for years?"

"Yes, but now he's desperate. He's coming out into the open. Think of how many of his we've killed. Gideon and Fabian Prewett. Dorcas Meadowes. Benjy Fenwick. Marlene McKinnon. James and Lily Potter and their boy from the prophecy. Frank and Alice Longbottom and _their_ boy from the prophecy. Andromeda and Ted Tonks and their girl. Moody's wounded. He's drowning in casualties."

"So you think you could set a trap for him," Bellatrix nodded, and Voldemort smirked.

"I think we could set a trap for him. I think we put you in your parents' house and send an owl to Andromeda. From your mother, begging Andromeda to come to the house and make rights with you, since you're staying there. Begging her to leave Ted Tonks."

"You think my mother doesn't know Andromeda's dead?" Bellatrix asked disbelievingly. Voldemort pinched his lips and shook his head conciliatorily.

"No, you're right. She almost certainly does know. I don't… I don't exactly have a good idea."

"Well, I think Malfoy's right about keeping you hidden for now," Bellatrix said. Voldemort chomped on his lip and went over to the writing desk, and he asked,

"Is that owl still upstairs?"

"Yes, Master," said Bellatrix.

"I'm going to send a letter. When I do, I want you to send it by owl."

He took out a parchment and a quill, and he scribbled,

 _Malfoy,_

 _Destroy this owl the instant you finish reading this letter._

 _Pass round instructions to Summon me through the Dark Mark if anyone spots Albus Dumbledore. I will Apparate to the site of the Summoning at once._

 _L.V._

* * *

"I wish I had a better plan," Voldemort said later that night. "I can't believe it's still raining." He stepped into his shower, unashamed now of nudity around Bellatrix. She leaned against the doorjamb of the bathroom and murmured,

"I think it's the best plan you could have, My Lord. This way, you're putting the minimum of other Death Eater lives at risk. You'll come if he comes out of his hiding hole."

"And what of me in my hiding hole?" Voldemort asked from inside the shower. He scrubbed at his grey hair, and Bellatrix said carefully,

"You killed nine of his just a few days ago, Master. It isn't as though you've been idle."

"And you've made a Horcrux," he pointed out. "Our Dark Magic has been active and strong. Powerful. We have been powerful."

"Have we?" Bellatrix was quiet, but near. He could feel that she was near. He shivered a little, standing beneath the warm water, and he said almost gently,

"Come here."

There was a pause of a few moments, and then the curtain peeled back and Bellatrix stepped into the tub. Voldemort stepped back and let her get under the warm water, and when he watched the drizzle of water over her breasts, falling off her peaked nipples, he felt himself going hard. He mumbled rather clumsily,

"I want… sorry, but I…"

"How about this? My Lord?" Bellatrix sank onto her knees and put her hands on his hips, and he hissed through clenched teeth as she opened her mouth and pressed his tip through her slightly parted lips. Voldemort savoured the way she suckled him into her mouth, wet and warm and tight and…

Burning. Burning, burning, burning on his left forearm.

"Fuck!"

Voldemort tore back the curtain of the shower and shut off the water, shoving Bellatrix off his quickly softening cock. He wandlessly cast a Hot Air Charm on himself to dry off, and he Summoned his robes and wand from the bedroom. He tripped a little as he was hurrying into his trousers. Bellatrix climbed out of the bathtub naked and cried,

"Master! You've been called? Shall I come?"

"Yes! Hurry up and get dressed!" he exclaimed, and Bellatrix rushed into the bedroom dripping wet. Voldemort didn't have time right now to be angry about the fact that their session of oral sex had been interrupted. Someone had seen Dumbledore. He shoved his glasses on, realising he'd be no good blind.

He and Bellatrix were ready in less than a minute, but it seemed so slow. By the time they _finally_ Disapparated off the Isle of Mull, Voldemort was shaking with anticipation. Where were they even going? As he shut his eyes and pressed his wand to his Dark Mark, he could see Yaxley's manor. He Disapparated with Bellatrix coming by Side-Along, and he came to in the gardens outside Yaxley's house.

He and Bellatrix were thrown into a storm of spells, of bright lights flashing all around him. He narrowly dodged a Stunning Spell that whizzed by his head as he searched for Dumbledore. He quickly saw him and aimed his wand at him. Dumbledore saw him at once, breaking away from his duel with Yaxley to cry,

" _Stupefy!"_

"Nice try, old man," Voldemort sneered, smacking the spell away with his own wand. The Death Eaters that had gathered - Lucius Malfoy, Yaxley, Augustus Rookwood, and Antonin Dolohov - were all in masks but instantly recognisable to Voldemort. They cast Killing Curses now that their master had come, for they seemed emboldened by his presence. Suddenly Elphias Doge, Emmeline Vance, and Sturgis Podmore collapsed, one by one, taken down by green Curses. Dumbledore cried out in horror, putting up mighty shields and Disapparating just as a Killing Curse was aimed at him by a very ambitious Bellatrix.

He came to in another spot of the garden, and Voldemort saw a split second window. He aimed his wand at Dumbledore and began to incant the Curse.

" _Avada -"_

But then Dumbledore Disapparated again, over and over, and Voldemort realised what he was doing. He was taking the bodies of Doge, Vance, and Podmore with him by complicated Side-Along. He Disapparated one more time before Voldemort could properly aim and incant a Killing Curse, and then he was gone.

"He'll be back," growled Dolohov, and Rookwood said breathlessly,

"We killed three of their fucking bastards! All of them except for Dumbledore!"

"All of them except the one who _matters!_ " Voldemort cried, and he slashed his wand angrily, tearing through the gardens with a fiery slash of light. He was angry with himself. If he'd only gotten here sooner… no, that wouldn't have mattered. He sighed and nodded at his masked Death Eaters.

"Fine work killing Doge, Vance, and Podmore. We missed him this time. We'll get him the next. Tell the others to call me through the Mark if Dumbledore makes another appearance. Coward that he is, I wouldn't count on it… but we all know he will. Call me when he does. Goodnight, gentlemen. Bella, come with me."

The others watched curiously as Bellatrix walked brazenly over to Voldemort and took hold of his sleeve, and Voldemort gave them a crisp nod and Disapparated, and when he and Bellatrix came to inside the house on the Isle of Mull, she put her hands on his chest and sighed heavily, murmuring in a gentle voice,

"I know you are angry and disappointed, Master, and I want you to know that you can always take that out on me."

He stared down at her, studying her pretty face for a long moment, and he nodded.

"Let's go upstairs. Finish what we started."

 **Author's Note: Dang. Almost got him, but not quite! But Dumbledore's allies are dropping like flies. How much more resistance can there be?**

 **Y'all know I hate to beg for reviews, but I see that tons of people are reading this (yay!) and not a ton reviewing (boo!) so if you get a quick moment to let me know your thoughts, I'd be grateful. Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 11

_12 November 1981_

 _Isle of Mull_

"Bellatrix," Voldemort said, pulling off his outer robe, "Take off your tunic. Slowly."

Bellatrix had been nude with him in the shower not very long earlier, but she did just as he commanded and slowly, slowly stripped off her gauntlets and then her shirt. She stood before him in her black shelf bra, which pushed her breasts up a bit, and Voldemort stared. Bellatrix felt the weight of his gaze and asked carefully,

"Do you like my body, Master?"

"I do." He nodded a little. He shut his eyes and gulped visibly and said in a frustrated voice, "I wanted Albus Dumbledore dead today. I thought I would get him. For a moment there, I thought I had him. I could see it. Success. Everything that will come after his death."

"How may I please you, My Lord?" Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort whispered,

"You please me well enough, Bella."

"Shall I take off the rest of my clothes now?" she asked, and he replied softly,

"Yes. You tried to kill him."

"I saw an opportunity," Bellatrix said as she slid her skirts down with her leggings. She had removed her boots downstairs. Bellatrix stood now in her bra and knickers, and Voldemort unbuttoned his own shirt and trousers and pulled them off one piece at a time. He was lumpy and bumpy, Bellatrix noticed again. He had a little paunch, and his skin was uneven. But she found him very handsome indeed. Voldemort kept his glasses on, and Bellatrix knew why. He wanted to stare at her for a moment. She rolled her shoulders back to showcase her breasts a little, and she put a hand on her waist as she tipped her hip up a little.

"You almost killed him," Voldemort told her, and Bellatrix remembered the way Dumbledore had Disapparated away from her Killing Curse. She remembered shouting the words. _Avada Kedavra!_ She'd shrieked them right at Dumbledore. She nodded and said again,

"I saw an opportunity, My Lord, to help you be successful. I will always do anything and everything for your success. I live for you. I live… for you."

"Bella." He seemed hungry then, and he whipped his glasses off and tossed them down onto the table beside the bed. He shoved his underwear down and kicked it away and jerked his chin toward the bed. Bellatrix climbed onto the bed, and she was surprised when Voldemort carefully tucked both of them beneath the green quilts. It was nice and warm under the blankets, she thought, but she hadn't been expecting him to take them under here.

They lay facing one another, and he kissed her hard, shoving his tongue between Bellatrix's lips and making her squeal. She tried to marry her tongue's motions with his, to synchronise the way their tongues danced in his mouth and then in hers. She reached between them and felt that he was rock solid, and he shoved her hand away, surprising her.

"Mmmph!" he groaned, pulling his mouth from hers. "If you massage me now, Bellatrix, it won't last but a moment."

"Sorry, Master," she whispered.

"I want you to come for me," he said bluntly, and Bellatrix flashed him a little smile as she whispered,

"I think I can do that."

He turned her facing away from him and wrapped his right arm round her, urging her thighs apart a bit as he touched the pads of his forefinger and middle finger to her folds. He grunted, his cock hard where it was folded against Bellatrix's back. He kissed the skin beneath her ear, lapping there as his hand moved. His fingers caressed her oyster-like folds, his middle finger coursing around in oval motions that felt so, so good around her entrance. Bellatrix gasped every time his finger glided over her clit, and she finally threw her head back. He'd wedged his left arm beneath her and was gripping a breast, and he urged her to turn her face so he could kiss her. He did kiss her, deeply and passionately, all the while his middle finger coursing ovals around her entrance. He finally dipped inside of her and hooked a little, and he mumbled,

"You are soaking wet."

"I'm going to come," Bellatrix said in a shaky voice, for it was true. She was right on the verge, right on the edge. She needed mercy or more from him; she wasn't sure which. She bucked her hips a little against his hand, and then fortunately he quickened up and deepened the motions of his middle finger and began to focus more and more on her clit. Bellatrix cycled her hips hard against his hand, and she let him kiss her cheek, then her jaw, then her neck, and then she came.

She cried for him as she did. _Master!_ she screamed. _My Lord! My Master!_ She was clenching round his fingers, she knew. She was shaking in his arms. She was trembling beneath his touch, and everything was hot and loud and wonderful.

And then it faded, very gradually, but her want did not. She still craved him. She needed him more than ever. She rolled onto her back and turned back toward him, and he looked like a starving man. Bellatrix suddenly had a wild need to ride him, and she begged him,

"Please, Master, may I be atop you?"

He seemed to like the thought of that very much. He kept rolling onto his back, and Bellatrix peeled back the blankets a bit. She threw a leg onto the far side of Voldemort and suddenly spied her wedding rings. The rings that bound her to Rodolphus. Who the blazes was Rodolphus in this room? He was no one here.

Bellatrix mounted Voldemort and lined his cock up with her sodden, quivering entrance. She slid down onto him and they both hissed, him so severely that it almost sounded like another language. Bellatrix leveraged herself on her hands and knees, leaning forward so that she could kiss Voldemort's scruffy neck. She kissed him so hard there that he cried out, but he squeezed at her curls and drew her closer. He liked it. Bellatrix kissed him again, harder, biting a little, and she began pumping her hips up and down like a machine piston.

"Bloody hell, Bellatrix!" Voldemort snarled through clenched teeth. "Bellatrix!"

"Master?" she huffed against his neck, snapping her pelvis down against his, and he whispered,

"I admire your enthusiasm, Bellatrix. Oh, fucking… _oh!_ "

Suddenly she could tell that he was coming, for she could feel him twitching and swelling inside of her. She was almost proud that she could make a man his age finish so quickly. She was almost proud that she could drive him to the edge like this just by molesting his neck with her mouth and bobbing her hips up and down. He liked her. He _wanted_ her. And that was the best feeling in the entire world.

When it was all over, they lay under the quilts on their backs, staring at the ceiling. Voldemort sighed and mumbled,

"I wanted Albus Dumbledore dead today, and you came the closest to killing him."

"I'll always be your soldier, Master, and soon enough Dumbledore will be dead," said Bellatrix in response. There was a long period of silence, so long that Bellatrix was very worried she'd done something wrong, and she tipped her head toward Voldemort. He kept staring at the ceiling, and he touched the back of his wrist to his forehead. He was silent and serious for a long moment, and then at long last, he whispered,

"I'm in love with you."

 **Author's Note: GASP. If you know me, you know that I believe Voldemort can love *under the right circumstances*. I think that him realizing that Bellatrix has genuinely loved him for decades, then developing feelings for her that range from admiration of her fighting to lust… seems like the right circumstances. But his love would definitely be twisted, amoral, and basically fundamentally flawed.**

 **But now that he's told her this, is there any going back? Will Dumbledore die? What happens the next time Rodolphus and Bellatrix meet?**

 **Thank you for reading and especially for reviewing!**


	12. Chapter 12

_15 November 1981_

 _Isle of Mull_

" _Bellatrix," said Rodolphus, wandering into the front foyer of Castle Lestrange. "I was wondering if you'd ever come home."_

" _We were all meant to be underground, and you knew I was with him," Bellatrix replied tartly. She dragged her hand along the stone wall of the castle's foyer and let one boot slowly go in front of the other. She ambled toward Rodolphus and asked,_

" _Is Edna still here?"_

" _Edna?" Rodolphus frowned and shook his head. "No, she only came twice, briefly. She didn't stay the whole while."_

" _Oh." Bellatrix was surprised to hear that, actually. She licked her bottom lip and pulled Rodolphus into the expansive sitting-room, and she explained, "He and I realised something during this time away, Rodolphus. I'm in love with him."_

" _Well, I knew that," Rodolphus scoffed cruelly, shaking his head. "I've known that for years."_

" _He loves me back," Bellatrix whispered desperately, and Rodolphus' eyes suddenly watered a little. His lips parted, and he was about to say something, but then Bellatrix gasped and yanked back her sleeve._

Bellatrix sat upright in the bed on the Isle of Mull, and Voldemort grunted from beside her.

"Back to sleep," he grumbled, and Bellatrix lay back down, feeling cold sweat upon her. She whispered carefully,

"He's going to be angry."

"He has no right over you. He has no right over anything that's mine," Voldemort growled back, and he curled her against his body.

Suddenly, Bellatrix was jolted from behind as he hissed and whispered,

"Bloody hell. Someone's calling me through the Mark. Let's go."

They hustled to throw on clothes as quickly as they could, and Voldemort informed Bellatrix,

"It's Avery. At his house in Cornwall. I can feel it."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix said, yanking on her tunic and Summoning her boots from downstairs. She slid them on and rushed over to Voldemort, lacing her arm through his. She gripped her wand carefully as they Disapparated, coming to on the grass outside Avery's spacious house in Cornwall.

It appeared to be just Dumbledore, Alastor Moody, and Minerva McGonagall who had come tonight, but then Bellatrix saw a few slumped figures - Stunned or dead - on the ground near Dumbledore. Avery was fighting with a few other masked figures that Bellatrix did not immediately recognise. Lucius and Abraxas Malfoy? Rodolphus and Rabastan? Rookwood? Yaxley?

"Get McGonagall!" Voldemort yelled at Bellatrix, and the two of them went running up the hill with their wands outstretched. Minerva McGonagall, who had been thirty and new to teaching when Bellatrix had been a Hogwarts student, jabbed her wand at Bellatrix.

" _Stupe-"_

" _CRUCIO!"_ Bellatrix screamed, and McGonagall immediately slumped to the ground, her Stunning Spell dying on her lips. Bellatrix watched a Death Eater go flying against the side of the house, pushed by an unseen wind cast by Dumbledore. She held her Cruciatus Curse and tortured McGonagall for half a minute, but then she remembered she was meant to kill her. She ignored the screaming, the squirming, and she looked round. Moody was taking on two of the masked Death Eaters at once, and it appeared to be a fierce battle. Dumbledore was locked up with Voldemort, who had just Conjured Fiendfyre.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_ cried Bellatrix, and there was a violent flash of jade green light that exploded from her wand and burst onto Minerva McGonagall's body. McGonagall lay on the ground, silent and unmoving, and Bellatrix huffed a breath as she stood above her and kicked at her a little bit.

"Bitch," she mumbled, studying McGonagall's face.

"Bellatrix!"

" _Stupefy!"_

* * *

When Bellatrix blinked her eyes open, she was lying on a grass field somewhere. Avery's house. They were at Avery's house. Stunned. She'd been Stunned by a voice that had sounded a lot like Moody's. _Bellatrix,_ she'd heard the Dark Lord cry in warning, but then Moody had Stunned her. Now Bellatrix sat up, dizzy and disoriented, and saw… nothing. Quiet.

"There she is! She's woken up!" cried a voice behind a mask. "Master! She flew over here!"

"Bring her to me!" called Voldemort.

Bellatrix was helped off the ground by wizards whose blond hair poked out behind their masks. Lucius and Abraxas Malfoy. She asked quietly,

"What happened?"

"The Dark Lord has defeated Albus Dumbledore!" said Lucius Malfoy excitedly. "The Dark Lord has killed him! Rookwood killed Moody. You killed McGonagall. We killed the others before you arrived. And the Dark Lord fired a perfectly-timed Killing Curse that -"

"I missed it," Bellatrix whispered hoarsely, but then she realised how selfish she was being. Her lord and master had killed Albus Dumbledore. Her master had killed Albus Dumbledore!

Suddenly she was running, dashing across the grass toward him. He stood looking filthy, sweaty, and tired. Triumphant. She ran toward him as fast as she could, and when she reached him, she crashed onto her knees and kissed the hem of his robe.

"Most glorious master," she praised him. "Where is his despicable corpse?"  
"Just there," said Voldemort. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Bellatrix turned her head to look where Voldemort was pointing, and she saw Dumbledore lying splayed on his back, awkwardly bent, his hat beside him, his glasses on the ground beside him, his mouth open, his eyes staring blankly. Voldemort walked up to Dumbledore, bent, and plucked away his wand, and there was a sudden rush of power palpable in the air. Magic crackled around Voldemort as he held Dumbledore's wand in his hand. He smirked at Bellatrix and told her,

"Do you know, I think I'll keep it and use it."

"A fine trophy, My Lord," Bellatrix said, still kneeling on the ground. "And all the others are gone? The others that came tonight?"

"McGonagall, Moody, and a few spares. The Order of the Phoenix is, for all intents and purposes, gone. Albus Dumbledore is gone. We have enough power in the Wizengamot to remove the Minister of Magic and install a Death Eater government now. Power will be mine. Power will be ours!"  
He cried out that last bit as he stood over the body of Albus Dumbledore, and the others whooped and cried out in jubilant celebration. Voldemort walked briskly to Bellatrix and pulled her up, saying,

"Off your knees, you silly witch. Don't you realise how influential you've been in all of this? Don't you realise you'll be at my side as we move forward?"

He seized her face in his hands then, Dumbledore's wand pressing against Bellatrix's cheek, and she was shocked when he whispered carefully,

"Don't you realise that I love you? Hm?"

Then he kissed her, right there beside Dumbledore's corpse, right there before his Death Eaters, right there in front of _everyone_. He kissed her deeply, sincerely, and Bellatrix adored it. She was breathless when he pulled away, and when he finally did, he wrapped his arm round her waist to hold her up. He looked up to the others and cried out again,

"Power will be ours! _Morsmordre!_ "

He aimed Dumbledore's wand at the sky, and green sparks shot out of it, rocketing upward and painting the night with the image of a skull eating a serpent.

 **Author's Note: Oh, my. So Dumbledore is dead. And Voldemort is not exactly hiding his feelings for Bellatrix. What happens in the greater Wizarding World now that Dumbledore is dead? What happens in Bellatrix's life? Thanks as always for reading and reviewing.**


	13. Chapter 13

_16 November 1981_

 _Malfoy Manor_

" _ALBUS DUMBLEDORE DEAD - MINISTER OUSTED! In a day of shocking news, we learn that Minister for Magic Millicent Bagnold has resigned her post and handed the reins of authority over to the unanimously-appointed Abraxas Malfoy. This upending of the Ministry comes only hours after the breaking news of the deaths of several notable people, including Alastor Moody, Minerva McGonagall, and, most shockingly, Albus Dumbledore._

 _It is not known exactly how the three died, though the Dark Mark was seen in the sky over Cornwall last night by Muggles who had to be Obliviated. It is suspected that the deaths of Moody, McGonagall, and Dumbledore are related to that sighting of the Dark Mark._

 _Albus Dumbledore was Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and with his and McGonagall's deaths, the post has been taken up by Horace Slughorn as interim Headmaster. There is no recoverable body for a funeral, but a memorial service will be held in Dumbledore's hometown of Mould-on-the-Wold, hosted by his brother Aberforth, with a joint service for Dumbledore and McGonagall scheduled at Hogwarts. Alastor Moody will be remembered alongside other war victims at a large-scale memorial service in Godric's Hollow on 20 November._

' _It is high time that this war came to an end,' said Abraxas Malfoy this morning upon taking the post of Minister of Magic. 'It is high time that the Ministry of Magic work with those who have been fighting on the opposing sides of this conflict and see to it that we all live together, contentedly, as one Wizarding society. I have personally spoken with the Dark Lord, and he wishes nothing but an end to all this madness. He wishes for Wizarding Britain's prosperity and righteousness, for a world in which all witches and wizards live in harmonious, successful kinship.'_

 _Whether Malfoy's new government can successfully unite the remnants of Dumbledore's allyship with the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named remains to be seen. Of course the death of Albus Dumbledore leaves a gaping hole in the Wizarding World, but we shall also see who steps in to fill those gaps. For now, we are all in shock."_

Voldemort set the _Daily Prophet_ down on the table and smirked at Rabastan Lestrange, who was currently the editor of the newspaper.

"Well done," he said rather proudly. "You made quick work of that news and managed to make it seem as though we are almost… bereaved."

There was a rumble of laughter around the table then, and Voldemort's smile grew. He turned his face to Abraxas Malfoy and asked,

"You will be replacing that infernal thorn in my side, Bartemius Crouch, tout de suite, will you not?"

"My father," spoke a voice, and Voldemort snapped to see Barty Crouch, Jr. snarling from his seat, flicking his tongue a little, "should be killed for his treasons against you, My Lord. Please, allow me to do it. If you allow it, I will assassinate him myself. I will go to my parents' house, kill them both, and Vanish the bodies."

"If they simply disappear, Master, I'll have to replace Crouch in his position as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," said Abraxas Malfoy. "I was thinking… Yaxley?"

Corban Yaxley tipped his head up and said in his strong Northern accent,

"I'd be honored to take the post once Crouch is eliminated, Master."

"Good. Let it be done. I want all of this to happen in the next two or three days. Magical Law Enforcement controls all else," said Voldemort. "Barty Crouch, take out your parents. Abraxas, immediately install Yaxley. Yaxley, you then craft a department that will elevate Death Eaters and persecute the remainders of the Order of the Phoenix. Rabastan Lestrange, I want morning and evening editions praising the new government. Put out an obituary for Albus Dumbledore that simply lists his accomplishments and then calls into question whether or not he was a good influence on the Wizarding world. Anything else, anything else…"

He drummed his fingers on the table before him, feeling absolutely triumphant, and he flicked his lips up as he laughed quietly,

"I am unaccustomed to things going so smoothly, my friends. This is plenty of work for us all over these next few days. Enjoy yourselves. Savour this victory."

"Your victory, Master!" cried Bellatrix, and Voldemort's eyes actually burned a little as he turned his face to her. He nodded, and she eagerly leaned forward on the table, her palms flat on the wood, and she exclaimed, "You killed that bastard, Master! You killed Albus Dumbledore. Long live the Dark Lord!"

"Long live the Dark Lord!" repeated Abraxas Malfoy, and the others began to chant it. Voldemort leaned back and reveled in the praise, in the glory, for a long moment. He smiled a bit at Bellatrix, and then when things settled down, he said to the group in a quiet, happy voice,

"Dismissed."

"My Lord?" asked a voice as the room began to clear out, and Voldemort looked up from his chair to see Rodolphus Lestrange standing beside him. The wizard gulped and knotted his hands together before him, and he mumbled, "Bellatrix says she's not to be living at Castle Lestrange anymore."

"No, she isn't," Voldemort snapped, reaching for the wand of elder wood that he'd taken off of Dumbledore's body. "Have you some issue with that, Rodolphus?"

"N-No, Master. Of course not. She is your servant, as am I. Both of us must live where you bid us to live. But I was only wondering… where shall I have her belongings sent? I shall have the House-Elf pack up all her clothes and everything, but…"

"Here. I stay here," Voldemort said simply, "In a suite. I'll have another wardrobe moved into the suite for her."

Rodolphus' face went red, and he glanced over to where Bellatrix was still seated at the table. She seemed wholly unaffected, playing with a fingernail as her husband and her master talked about her. Rodolphus nodded and said to Bellatrix,

"Bella, love, I'll have your things sent here then. Everything you normally use. All right?"

"Thank you, Dolph," said Bellatrix dully. "Hope Edna's well."

"She is. Thanks." Rodolphus bowed to Voldemort and strode briskly out of the meeting room. Bellatrix flew out of her chair and rushed over to where Voldemort sat. He pushed his chair back and let her straddle him, and he grunted with pleasure when she did. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him rather aggressively, surprising him, but he liked it. He liked it so well that he whispered,

"Do that again."

She did, kissing him harder this time. She put her lips beside his ear and whispered frantically,

"Everything is coming into focus now, Master, because of you."

"Perhaps the world just needed glasses, like I do," he joked, but she kissed the skin beneath his ear and said seriously,

"We needed _you_. You've saved us from Albus Dumbledore. You're going to save us from the scourge of Mudbloods. You're going to save us all, and we all adore you more than you know."

"I think you adore me more than the others," Voldemort laughed, but Bellatrix pulled back and stared right at him, her face grave. He adjusted his glasses and studied her, and she told him,

"When I woke up from being Stunned, I realised two things. First, that you had called my name before Moody Stunned me."

"Well, yes. I saw him aim his wand at you," Voldemort said. "I thought he might kill you. I had to give you warning."

"And second," Bellatrix said, "that I missed the moment that Dumbledore died. I missed the moment you cast that Curse. And that is my _only_ regret in all this. I was unconscious when he died. I didn't get to see it happen."

"If only you were a Legilimens," Voldemort smirked, "I'd show you the memory. Or if I had a Pensieve, I could do it. There's one at Hogwarts, I think. Perhaps someday I'll show you. No, you know, Bella, I'll make you a promise. Someday, I'll find a way to show you the memory of me killing him. All right?"

Bellatrix's eyes welled heavily as she smiled, and as Voldemort stroked at her waist, she whispered,

"You actually do love me, don't you?"

"Yes, I actually do," he murmured, pushing up his glasses again. "What of it?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "You know I love you more than anyone in the world has ever loved anyone else."

"I do know it." He squeezed at her waist and studied her lips, and he ordered her quietly, "Kiss me again."

THE END

 **Author's Note: Tainted love indeed. Thanks very much for reading. Please do leave a comment if you can.**


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